


Working With The Reaper

by megsblackfire



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Love at first sight?, M/M, Reaper has a violence kink, Reaper has no chill, Vigilante AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-10-08 20:42:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10395666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megsblackfire/pseuds/megsblackfire
Summary: Jack Morrison is a new captain on the Overwatch Police Force. On his very first assignment, he comes face to face with the city's most dangerous vigilante and lives to tell about it. Things grow stranger as the vigilante keeps showing up in his house and badly attempting to woo him. However, when you are surrounded by vigilantes, someone is bound to notice and retaliation is never far behind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A Vigilante AU everyone! Hope you enjoy it.

Jack did his best to smile as he resisted the urge to break the Staff Sergeant's nose. Yes, yes, he had bright golden hair the same colour as corn. Yes, yes, he had ludicrously long eyelashes. Yes, yes, he used concealer to take some of the redness out from his scars. Could they get on to the fact that he was supposed to be shown to his office and not grilled over being “girly”? Because he would really like a chance to get settled into his new environment before he had to actually do his fucking job.

Not that the Staff Sergeant seemed to care. That nasty grin and taunting voice irked Jack to his core. He’d met more than enough assholes like him during his time in the army. They were all the same brand of douchebag. If you weren’t overtly macho and meat-headed, you were some sort of disgrace to all men or something. It was annoying and tiresome; he really did wish they just gave it a rest and grew up. He had better things to do with his time than waste brain cells on them.

“Patterson, aren’t you supposed to be running plates?” a voice demanded.

The man flinched and turned to look at the source of the demand. “Uh, just showing the new guy around,” he said.

“Impressive, considering he has a higher rank than you,” the regal man crossed his arms over his chest.

There was a severity to his gaze that Jack could appreciate. Not a bad looking man, but not someone Jack would be interested in personally. This definitely wasn’t someone that was used to having their authority ignored, especially by those of lower rank. He would have to remember that if he didn’t want to get on their bad side.

“Get back to your desk before the chief finds out you were harassing our veteran with your stupidity,” the man ordered.

Jack watched Patterson scurry off and snorted. “Thanks,” he said.

“You looked like you could use the help,” the man smiled and held out his hand. “Hanzo Shimada.”

“Jack Morrison,” he said as he shook Hanzo’s hand. “You’re my new partner?”

“Yes,” Hanzo chuckled. “Don’t mind Patterson; he’s generally an ass, but he’s good at his job.”

“Sounds like every other job I’ve worked,” Jack chuckled. “So, I’m supposed to have an office on this floor somewhere?”

“Follow me,” Hanzo nodded as he set off down the hallway. “I’ll let you get situated before we go do our rounds. Overwatch doesn’t have a high crime rate this time of the year, but Petras doesn’t like patrol routes growing moss. Likes to remind everyone that we’re still here watching even if there isn’t much to see. Keeps the real criminals from trying anything and the petty ones on their toes.”

“Understandable,” Jack said as he stepped into his office. “Cozy.”

It was cramped and not built for someone his size. He didn’t think even his skinny-ass sixteen year old self would have fit in this office comfortably. The walls were too close and the shelves were cramped in against each other. At least there was a window he could open. That should help stave off a little bit of the claustrophobia crawling up his throat.

“It’s where everyone starts out,” Hanzo shrugged. “Don’t worry; one of the higher ups is getting ready to retire. Then we’ll all get to do the office shuffle and everyone will get more room. Other than the sucker that gets stuck in here, of course.”

Jack chuckled as he set his things down and stretched. “How long have you been on the force?” he asked as he started getting his things in order on the desk.

Pictures of his family; check. Stress cube because a stress ball would just roll off the desk; check. Personal pens because his knuckles were starting to get touchy about the rubber grips on most pens; check. Not bad for his first day. He’d even managed to not forget his cup for paperclips even though he wasn’t sure if anyone even used those in Overwatch anymore.

“Fifteen years total; six in Overwatch,” Hanzo shrugged a shoulder. “Not the career path my parents wanted, but it’s my own path to walk.”

“Could be worse,” Jack smirked. “Could be a drug dealer.”

Hanzo gave a tight smile. “They probably would have preferred that,” he sighed. “They have a low opinion of anyone that is not in business.”

“Oh, joy,” Jack rolled his eyes as he set the bobble-head pug on his desk. “Well, I’m ready for the five-cent tour.”

“Better than the two-cent one,” Hanzo smirked. “There really isn’t much to see. The most you have to worry about is the way to your office and the way to Petras’. Everything else can be found in five minutes.”

They walked down the hallway and Jack stopped to look at the pictures of past Chief of Police in the city. He frowned at one name plate and tilted his head to the side. There was no picture sitting above it and it was clear that there never had been one.

“Where this guy’s picture?” he asked as he tapped ‘Gabriel Reyes’.

“No one knows; apparently, the framed photo was destroyed in transit and a new one was never commissioned,” Hanzo replied with a careful shrug. “Best not to talk too loudly about it here. Petras doesn’t like being reminded of his dead partner and predecessor.”

Jack frowned and shook his head. After a quick tour of the station; it was the exact same set up as every other station he’d ever been in; Hanzo led him out to the cruiser. A German Shepherd barked at them as they approached, fangs bared and saliva flying from its jowls. Hanzo hushed him quickly.

“Sorry, Minami’s a little protective,” Hanzo chuckled.

“You’re with the K-9 unit?” Jack asked as Hanzo opened the door.

“Yes,” Hanzo nodded. “My old partner’s retired; Kita’s enjoying life as a lazy old dog in my sunroom. Minami’s got another year before he’ll be joining her.”

“You get to keep them?” Jack smiled as he let Minami sniff his hand.

“It’s part of the agreement with the unit,” Hanzo smirked. “Kita and Minami wouldn’t listen to anyone else on the force after being with me and my superiors don’t like the thought of sending them to homes where they might bite someone.”

“Not a good ending for service dogs,” he agreed as he scratched behind Minami’s ears. “Who’s a good boy?”

Minami wagged his tail before jumping back in the cruiser when Hanzo whistled. They climbed in and Hanzo pulled out onto the street.

“This is unit 245,” he said as he drove. “Dispatch has a lot of different codes, but any that have 245 at the end are for us.”

Jack nodded. Simple enough. He was going to screw it up at least once or twice. That was inevitable. First day on the job and all that jazz. No one would hold it against him, hopefully. They’d all been the new blood at some point. No use picking on the new guy.

Hanzo drove down their route, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as Minami poked his nose against the metal separator. They pulled over at one point so that Hanzo could speak to a couple of kids on bikes in what Jack guessed was Japanese. He couldn’t say for certain; he personally only spoke two languages and that was about it.

“Korean, actually,” Hanzo corrected when Jack mentioned it. “They’re from my neighbourhood and I was making sure they were staying out of trouble.”

The radio went off and Hanzo gave Jack a flat look. Jack blinked before fumbling for the hand-piece. Whoops, there was the inevitable screw up.

“Unit 245,” he replied.

“That took a while to answer; new guy?” dispatch asked.

“Yah,” he coughed. “What’s going on?”

“Robbery going on down at Joe’s Food Mart,” dispatch sighed. “You’re the closest unit.”

“Heading there now,” Jack replied as Hanzo snapped the sirens on.

Vehicles moved out of the way and they drove quickly to the grocery store that was getting robbed. Hanzo parked the car and popped the back door open as they spotted one lone, balaclava -lad person booking it across the parking lot.

“Minami, go,” Hanzo ordered.

Minami charged after the fleeing person, jumping up to knock them to the ground. Hanzo and Jack raced after the dog, Hanzo whistling to call the shepherd off before he did any real damage to the thief. Jack snapped a pair of cuffs onto the person’s wrists and read them their rights. They left Minami to guard them, smirking as he growled every time the person moved.

They approached the store and heard the rapid-fire retort of a semi-automatic rifle. Jack hissed and put his shoulder against the door, waiting for Hanzo to nod. He shoved forward, lifting his gun up as Hanzo barked out an order to get on the ground. The frightened customers immediately pressed themselves against the ground while the lone thief stood shaking in the corner, their handgun clutched to their chest.

“On the ground,” Jack ordered as he advanced on the thief. “Don’t make me say it again.”

“Jace went to the roof,” the thief blurted out as they dropped the gun and immediately fell to their knees. “Please! The Reaper’s got him!”

“Who?” Jack asked as he cuffed the thief.

“Reaper,” the thief whined. “He’s one of the masked men. He’s got Jace!”

Jack growled and ran a hand down his face. That was the one thing he wasn’t looking forward to in Overwatch. Vigilantes were everywhere. Anyone that could put on a mask did so and ran around doling out “justice” when they believed the system had failed them. Theft of property, espionage, breaking and entering; all of it was used when these vigilantes believed the cops weren’t doing enough. And it was always their definition of “enough” that was used. Forget red tape and the fact that things took time to process; gotta go out on their own and beat the shit out of some random suspect that they believe did the crime. Who needs solid evidence when you could just go punch the perp in the face? Idiots.

“Going to get the last one,” Jack shouted to Hanzo before he darted up the stairs towards the roof.

He had an idea of what to expect from a vigilante named Reaper, but he really wasn’t expecting what he found. The man was taller than him, bound in kevlar, muscular as all hell, and packing serious heat. His sawed-off shotgun was pressed against the back of the last thief’s head, his finger sitting on the trigger. A bone white mask like the face of an owl turned towards him and Jack slowly lifted his hands.

“I’m putting my gun away,” he said slowly. “This doesn’t have to end in bloodshed.”

The white mask followed his hand as he put the gun back in his holster. Jack lifted his hands, splaying his fingers wide. The vigilante’s stance didn’t relax.

“I’m going to take a step closer,” Jack said. “Just a step. That’s it.”

He slid his boot forward and watched the vigilante. They remained tense, but he could see the dangling hand twitching towards the second shotgun hanging from his belt. Jack spread his hands wide.

“Thank you for subduing the thief,” he said. “I’ll take him down to the station now.”

The vigilante growled at him and pressed the shotgun harder against the whimpering man’s head, twisting the muzzle sideways. Jack kept his expression neutral. He didn’t want the vigilante to see how nervous he was. He didn’t want them to think they had more power than they did. He wanted the thief punished properly and a buckshot to the head was not justice.

“He’s a thief, Reaper,” he said. “Blowing a thief’s head off isn’t really justice, is it? That is what you want, right? Justice for the store owner?”

The white mask turned before Reaper pointed towards the discarded rifle. Jack glared at it and then at the thief. So this was the asshole that had a semi-automatic. For fuck sake; was this guy trying to compensate for a small dick or something? Fucking hell; who brought a fucking AK to a grocery store robbery?

“Bringing a rifle of that caliber to a robbery is overkill, but if he didn’t actually use it, he doesn’t deserve to die,” Jack said. “I’m going to take a few steps closer so we can talk face to face.”

He slid closer, waited a moment, and took another step. Reaper watched him approach, as unmoving as a statue. He was less than an arm’s reach from Reaper, his hands still up and away from his gun and every other device he could use on the vigilante to beat them into submission. He wanted trust, however small it might be, and he wanted the vigilante to co-operate.

“This doesn’t have to end in bloodshed,” he repeated.

Reaper moved so fast Jack only had a moment to tense before the muzzle of the second shotgun was shoved under his jaw. Reaper loomed over him, his finger resting on the trigger.

“And what if I want it to?” Reaper growled.

His voice was heavily distorted, more of a rasp than an actual voice. It sent a tremor down Jack’s spine, but he kept his breathing even as he looked into the black slits where Reaper’s eyes would be. Now was not the time to show fear. He wasn’t in control of the situation, he knew that, but he wanted Reaper to hand him the control. Hostage situations were always dangerous and this one was no different. He just had to be careful.

“You want to add ‘killed a cop’ to the list of things you’ve done today?” Jack asked. “Look, Reaper, I get it. Sometimes the system fails because some jackass gets a really good lawyer and can walk away without ever suffering for what they did. I get that. It frustrates the hell out of me too, but killing this thief isn’t going to solve that.”

“Would definitely send a message,” Reaper growled. “Don’t fuck with my city.”

“It’s not your city,” Jack said. “You aren’t the law here, Reaper. You can’t play judge, jury, and executioner. That’s not how justice works. That’s never been how justice works.”

Reaper paused and slowly cocked his head to the side. He let out a low laugh before pulling the shotgun away from Jack’s jaw. Jack worked it slowly in relief, watching Reaper closely.

“You are such a Boy Scout,” Reaper chuckled. “Not even a glimmer of rust under that golden exterior, huh?”

Before Jack had a chance to respond, Reaper twisted and smashed the shotgun against the thief’s head. They dropped like a rock, blood gushing down his face from a split eyebrow.

“The hell are you doing?” Jack demanded as he went to move. “That’s going to get blamed on me, you ass-mmph!”

Jack stiffened as a warm mouth pressed over his. He tried to look at his nose to get an idea of what Reaper looked like, but the bone white mask was situated in just the right way to hide his facial features. Reaper pulled away and Jack caught sight of a bright red tongue rolling over dark lips before the mask was back in place.

“See you around, Boy Scout,” Reaper chuckled before there was a flash of smoke.

Jack coughed and waved the smoke away, glaring at the spot Reaper had been. He rubbed his lips self-consciously because damn did the man know how to kiss before he cuffed the thief and hauled him back down the stairs with the rifle slung over his shoulder.

* * *

 

Hanzo did his best not to bristle as Petras heaped praise on Jack. The Chief was smiling and clapping Jack’s shoulder, almost as if he had stopped the robbery all by himself. Because the new boy on the block could totally take on three armed robbers by himself without any back up. Jack smiled politely as Petras continued talking, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“While I appreciate your approval, Chief, my partner did most of the heavy lifting,” Jack said. “He calmed the patrons, sent Minami after the first thief that was trying to flee, and kept the second thief subdued while I retrieved the third. If you should praise someone, praise him.”

Hanzo shot Jack a curious look. He’d had a number of partners over the years and no one dared to talk back to Petras. It was strangely refreshing if not worrying. What was Petras going to do to the new guy since it was clear he didn’t understand the pecking order around here?

An uneasy smile spread across Petras’ face. “Ah, yes, Captain Shimada,” he said. “You did exceptional as well. You handled the situation better than most; I’m pleased that no one was shot.”

“Firing on civilians is unnecessary,” Hanzo inclined his head. “If you are finished with us, sir, I will get started on my paperwork.”

“Of course,” Petras smiled before waving them both out of his office. “I expect good things from you, Jack.”

Jack inclined his head as they left the office. He kept his face neutral until they stepped into Hanzo’s office. As soon as the door closed, his pretty face immediately turned down in a scowl and he let out a low growl.

“It’s a bad sign if I already hate my boss,” he growled. “Is he always like that?”

“Usually,” Hanzo sighed as he activated his holographic interface and brought up the paperwork they needed to fill out. “He tries to soften you up with praise. Never heard someone talk back to him before. It’s strangely refreshing.”

“I’ve had drill sergeants more terrifying than him,” Jack chuckled. “He hardly fazes me. Bullies rarely have the brains to be imaginative.”

Hanzo laughed before tossing the screen over to Jack to start on his paperwork. “Bully indeed,” he agreed.


	2. Chapter 2

When Jack walked into his office the next day, he was greeted by a large vase of multi-coloured roses. He blinked at the display in surprise before he walked over to admire them. He breathed in their scent, smiling at the faint touch of baby’s breath that was sprinkled into the bouquet. It was beautiful and he hoped he could figure out what boutique made them so he could thank them for their hard work.

It was absolutely amazing, especially with all the different colours mixed together. He gentle cupped one red bud and pressed it against his nose to get a better smell. Beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Who could have sent him such a lovely welcoming gift?

“Looks like someone has a secret admirer,” Hanzo teased as he walked into the office. “Not here a day and already being sucked up to with the biggest flowers someone could find.”

“They’re beautiful,” Jack murmured as he looked for a card. “No signature, of course.”

“Red, white, yellow, orange, coral, lavender,” Hanzo ticked the colours off and frowned. “Huh, that’s a lot of messages.”

“Hmm?” Jack blinked.

“Generally when you want to send a message to someone with flowers, you use colours and species,” Hanzo rubbed his jaw. “I worked in a flower shop in college. You pick up a thing or two, especially when you’re trying to be a pretentiously romantic douchebag.”

“So, what’s being said here?” Jack asked.

“Mostly that your secret admirer really likes you, lusting even,” Hanzo frowned. “They’re trying to pass it off as loving devotion from first sight, but it’s definitely lust. You don’t include orange and try to say it’s loving devotion. Can I see the card?”

Jack handed the adorable little card over. It was covered in little black hearts that had those silly candy-gram sayings on them. There were also adorable little barn owls everywhere, all shyly tucking their head against their chest as they spelled out “ _Chico de oro_ ” on their bellies.

“ _Chico de oro_?” Hanzo asked in confusion.

“‘Golden boy’ in Spanish,” Jack sighed and patted his hair. “People have called me that for years because of my hair.” He blinked at Hanzo. “Uh, you okay there?”

Hanzo shoved the card at him. “Hide that in your pocket,” he hissed. “Don’t let anyone know about it. Fuck. Fuck, this is bad.”

“Why?” Jack asked as he put the card in the satchel on his hip.

“Of all the vigilantes you had to get tangled with, it had to be Reaper,” Hanzo hissed. “He’s a wanted criminal with a track sheet a mile long. No one with a working brain wants anything to do with him and you blunder right into his lap on your first day in town.”

“I thought being a vigilante wasn’t a criminal offence here,” Jack blinked.

“It’s not so long as you don’t overstep your boundaries,” Hanzo sighed. “Reaper though...fuck, I have to call someone. We don’t have a patrol today, but Minami will want to see my contact, the traitor. We’ll take the cruiser and I’ll come up with a reason for it later.”

Hanzo pulled out his cellphone and started pacing the length of the office. He growled down the line at someone, hissing that ‘now is not the time for your antics’ and that he ‘needed information immediately’. Apparently, his contact with being a bit of an asshole and teasing the captain about something. If the faint blush creeping across his cheeks was anything, Jack would say that they were badly concealed flirts and cheesy pickup lines.

“I will bring you that disgusting fare you call food as incentive, so long as you shut up,” Hanzo snapped. He snorted and hung up after a moment. “Lousy, good-for-nothing excuse for a man,” he growled. “If he wasn’t so useful….” He shook his head. “Come on.”

Jack followed Hanzo out to the cruiser after picking up Minami from the holding pens. They drove down a winding road, stopped in at a drive-thru restaurant that Jack was certain would not pass a health inspection and was only open because the owner was slipping the inspector bribes, and continued on into the industrial section. Hanzo made Jack hold the take-out bag most of the way, turning his nose up at it the moment it was in the vehicle. Hanzo parked the cruiser on the side of the road and let Minami out, holding onto the greasy take-out bag like it was diseased.

Jack followed behind Hanzo as Minami trotted obediently at his side. Two huge warehouses loomed on either side of him, but no one seemed to be working. It made the whole place eerie; no better place to have a rather secretive rendezvous than an abandoned warehouse district, he supposed. He paused as he caught the soft sound of whistling and he saw Hanzo cringe.

“Go,” Hanzo sighed at Minami.

The shepherd bolted forward eagerly, barking loudly as he went running between the warehouses. Jack heard a grunt somewhere amongst the crates beside the warehouse on the right before he and Hanzo made their way over to a figure lying on the ground scratching Minami’s throat.

“Aw, the big scary puppy missed me,” the man cooed in an amazing drawl. “Who’s a good little copy-wopy?”

“Please stop baby-talking my partner,” Hanzo growled. “It’s bad enough he loves you as much as he does. I don’t need him softening up and forgetting his training.”

“Well, shucks, dalin’, I gotta baby-talk one of ya,” the man chuckled as he sat up, hugging Minami close. “May as well be the one that doesn’t want to chew my face off, eh, Minami?”

Jack tried not to marvel at the man’s get up. Gray dress-pants, black and blue waistcoat, blue half-cloak hanging over his left shoulder, sharp looking dress boots, a glove over his right hand while the other was metallic, a large blue scarf wrapped around the lower part of his face, a black eye-mask, and a large black hat. He looked like something out of a comic book, but maybe that was the intended purpose. Vigilantes were notoriously dorky when it came to their costumes.

Hanzo let out a long growl before he threw the take-out bag at the man. “Your disgusting food,” he snapped.

“Aw, sugar, you know how to soften me up,” the man laughed as he caught the bag.

“It’ll soften something,” Jack wrinkled his nose.

“So, who’s the friend?” the man asked as he pulled his blue scarf down and stuffed the greasy burger into his mouth.

The man’s face didn’t reveal much about him. He was clean shaven with a few shallow cuts on his cheeks. His nose was sharp, but he could have easily been mistaken for any other man on the street. That was probably how he wanted it.

“This Captain Jack Morrison,” Hanzo said. “New to the force.”

“Well, pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir,” the man tipped his hat after he had swallowed. “Mighty fine piece of muscle you are.”

“Thank you,” Jack chuckled; he never was one to turn down a compliment on his physique. He worked hard on it. “And you are?”

“The vigilante known as Gunslinger,” the man bowed his head and grinned. “One of the best damn info-rat the city’s ever seen. Hanzo likes to pretend he hates me, but he’d have been killed a long time ago if it weren’t for my information.”

“Which is why we’re here,” Hanzo said as he stepped forward.

“Yah, so what’s up, sugar?” Gunslinger cleaned his mouth of ketchup and sucked on the metallic thumb that had taken the condiment off of his face.

“Jack received flowers from the Reaper.”

Gunslinger’s eyes widened behind his mask. “Ooh. Ooh, yah, that’s not good,” he said as he sat up a little straighter. “What kind?”

“Roses,” Jack said. “Twelve in total, two per colours.”

“Wait,” Gunslinger blinked. “He sent you _roses_?”

“Yes.”

“Was there a card sent with it?” Gunslinger frowned.

Jack pulled the card out and walked over to hand it to the vigilante. Gunslinger tipped his hat and looked the card over, flipping it around a few times and holding it up to the sky. He had his tongue between his teeth the whole time. He let out a long hum before he cocked his head to the side.

“Huh,” he said. “Funny. Didn’t think him the sort for adorable nicknames. He usually just calls me ‘ingrate’ and everyone else ‘asshole’ or ‘dipshit’.”

“What do you mean?” Hanzo asked. “Jack is not on his List?”

“Nah,” Gunslinger grinned and handed the card back. “Don’t know what you did, _Oro_ , but you’ve caught his eye. You get a lavender rose?”

“Two,” Jack frowned.

“Aw, he’s going soft in his old age,” Gunslinger cackled.

“Soft?”

“‘Love at first sight,’” Gunslinger waved a hand. “You really impressed him; the man was never that lovey-dovey when I knew him. What did you do?”

“Tried to talk him down from killing a thief,” Jack said as he rubbed the back of his head.

“You piss yourself when he put his shotgun against your head?” Gunslinger rubbed at his jaw.

“No,” Jack shook his head. “Didn’t have time to think about that.”

“Then that’s probably it,” Gunslinger spread his fingers wide before he went back to eating his greasy burger. “Reaper’s got a bit of an adrenaline kink. Likes to make people scared and it makes him a horny mess.”

“How do you know that?” Jack asked with a small touch of disgust in his voice.

“Reaper taught me everything I know,” Gunslinger sighed. “I got connections in this city the likes of which you cops could never dream of getting, but him? This whole city seems to breathe because of him. Hell, he’s taken out more mob bosses than anyone else changes their underwear. Surprised that Petras hasn’t turned in his badge already and let Reaper run the show.”

“If he has connections like that, why doesn’t he work with the police to eliminate the crime altogether?” Jack shook his head.

“Long story,” Gunslinger shivered. “And it ain’t my place to tell.”

“To hear him tell it, the force betrayed him,” Hanzo murmured softly. “No one knows his name and any attempt to dig further is met with a shotgun to the temple. He doesn’t want anyone to find out about him or his past. He is brutal in his attempts to remain hidden.”

“Wait, he’s a cop-killer?” Jack tensed in alarm.

“‘Bout the only thing he doesn’t touch are children,” Gunslinger murmured. “Wasn’t always like that. When we worked together in the beginning, he just wanted to protect folks. But as time went on, he became more and more frustrated with everyone and everything around him. Got to point where our methods got too different and I left.”

“He didn’t kill you?” Jack asked in disbelief.

“Nah, ol’ Reaper sees me like his kid,” Gunslinger smiled. “And partnerships don’t last too long in our line of work anyways. Too much liability. Helps when yer moving to take out a large target, but most of the time it’s easier to work alone.”

“Okay,” Jack ran his hand through his hair. “So let me get this straight. I somehow managed to attract the eye of the single-most well-connected and dangerous vigilante in the entire city. And he has a massive crush on me even though he pretty much hates cops and won’t bat an eye about killing them.”

“Yup,” Gunslinger smirked as he pulled his scarf back up over his mouth and nose.

Jack shook his head. “What luck,” he sighed. “Thank you for meeting us, Gunslinger. It’s good to know that I’m not about to drop dead.”

“No problem, Captain,” Gunslinger nodded his head. “You keep safe now, got it?”

Jack saluted and grinned. “Sir, yes sir,” he said.

Gunslinger’s eyes widened before he whistled. “Ooh. I give it a week before Reaper’s in your bed,” he said. “Ain’t no way he’s going to pass up a soldier. You’d be able to handle that man no problem with yer trainin’.”

Jack shook his head before he turned and walked away. Hanzo followed him a few minutes later, growling at him not to turn his back on a vigilante, even one that he had worked with before. Minami padded at Hanzo’s side, wagging his tail as he was allowed into the backseat. Jack climbed into the cruise and leaned back to process what he had learned.

Sometimes he wondered if he had the world’s best luck or the shittiest luck.

* * *

 

Hanzo walked into his house and grit his teeth. “Genji, don’t leave your damn suit out on the counter,” he shouted as he threw the cybernetic mesh onto a chair.

“Oh please, like anyone’s going to walk into the house,” Genji snorted from the couch. His childish show was blaring loudly out of the speakers. Probably trying to block out some horrible memory again instead of seeking help like Hanzo kept trying to get him to do. “How was work?”

“Arduous,” Hanzo snapped as he took a seat at the table. “I had to deal with Gunslinger.”

“Oh?” Genji’s green head poked over the top of the couch and he grinned. “Aw, did the Southern stud try to woo your heart again, bro?”

“Silence, Genji,” Hanzo rubbed at his eyes as Kita trotted over and dropped her head onto his lap. He scratched over her ears and let out a long sigh. “I thought that the Reaper had targeted my partner. It is something not quite as serious but still dangerous.”

“Ooh,” Genji clucked his tongue. “Well, glad the Golden Boy’s going to stick around.” Hanzo shot him a glare and Genji grinned. “Hey, word gets around fast when there’s a new cop in town. Especially when he’s as smoking hot as Captain Morrison.”

“You will keep your hands to yourself, Sparrow,” Hanzo growled. “I don’t need you getting that friendly with my new partner.”

Genji rolled his eyes in amusement. “Like I want him anyways,” he said with a dismissive wave. “I just said the guy was hot. Doesn’t mean I want him to fuck me into bed. Although with hips like that, he could probably rock anyone’s world.”

“And I’ve heard quite enough,” Hanzo said as he got to his feet and headed upstairs.

He locked the door behind him so that Genji couldn’t follow him and started getting changed out of his uniform. He heard someone move the pane of his window and tensed. He had his gun up and pointed at Gunslinger as he set his feet on the hardwood flooring. Hanzo took a deep breath before he holstered the gun and stored it safely away. He finished getting changed, ignoring the possessive way the vigilante’s eyes rolled over his backside.

“You look good in blue, sugar,” Gunslinger purred as he walked over. “Look better in my blue, though.”

“No,” Hanzo said coldly as he turned around to face the vigilante. “We’ve been over this a hundred thousand times; I am not helping you ‘fight injustice’ by becoming a vigilante.”

“You’d be good at it,” Gunslinger said as he trailed a finger down Hanzo’s cheek. “With your training and aim….”

“Push those foolish notions aside,” Hanzo snapped. “You are an informant, nothing else.”

“But you’d like me to be more,” Gunslinger whispered as he pulled down his scarf and gave that heart-stopping smile of his. “You’d love to come home to me waiting for you with supper made and snapdragons waiting in a vase.”

Hanzo closed his eyes and turned his head away. “I will not get tangled up with your stupidity. It is bad enough that you encourage Genji to circumvent the law with his Sparrow persona. I will not tolerate you doing the same to me.”

“Gotta admit the kid’s good,” Gunslinger chuckled before he tipped Hanzo’s chin up. “Come on, darlin’; just say the word and I’ll strip it all off, just for you. Not a single secret between us. Just you and me and a nice warm bed.”

“You have a thousand different disguises,” Hanzo said as he reached up to push the hand away. “I would not be with the real you any more than I am at this moment.”

Hanzo gasped as Gunslinger’s warm mouth covered his. He closed his eyes, reaching up to wrap his arms around the vigilante’s shoulders. Spanish nothings drifted through the air as the Gunslinger held him close. Hanzo pulled away from the kiss and rested his head on the man’s collarbone, listening to the soft promises tumble off of those honey lips. Hanzo closed his eyes, letting himself believe the fantasies for a few moments before he pulled away.

“Take your lies elsewhere, Gunslinger,” he said firmly. “I will have none of them. I need to rest after the stress of today.”

Gunslinger’s eyes narrowed before he pulled his scarf back over his mouth and nose. “I don’t lie to you, Hanzo,” he said. “You just ain’t ready to hear the truth. Happens to the best of us, I’m afraid. Sleep well, my dragon. I’m only a call away.”

He tipped his hat before leaving through the window. Hanzo rubbed at his eyes, fighting back tears as he crawled into bed and curled up. He never realized how lonely he was until Gunslinger left him night after night. He couldn’t let that professional barrier fall any lower between them, but he wanted to curl up against the Gunslinger’s chest and forget the outside world existed. He wanted to fall asleep listening to that deep voice humming old country songs and whispering in Spanish even if he didn’t know what was being said. He wanted those big, warm hands rubbing gently against his back and soothing all of his worries away. He wanted it so bad and Hanzo knew that if he even let himself cave for a moment that he would never see the next sunrise.

“Good hunting, Gunslinger,” he murmured against the pillow. “I’m sorry for being so cruel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, Reaper, you romantic bastard~ How nice of you to leave Jack flowers after threatening to shoot him yesterday. And giving his partner a heart-attack.  
> And if anyone asks why Gunslinger is wearing the "Mystery Man" skin rather than the "Vigilante" one; I refuse to accept that anyone would willingly wear that yellow abomination. Not happening in my story. No freaking way.


	3. Chapter 3

Jack didn’t even look up from his mug of coffee as he heard the shotgun’s hammer click. “Is that really necessary?” he asked as he poured creamer into his coffee.

He turned to regard Reaper as the vigilante stood in his kitchen. One shotgun was pointed at Jack’s head, but the man’s finger wasn’t anywhere near the trigger. Jack let out a soft snort before he leaned on the counter to sip his coffee.

“The roses were beautiful,” he said. “The lavender ones were most intriguing. ‘Love at first sight’, right?”

Reaper let out a low chuckle before he lowered his shotgun and holstered it. “You spoke with Gunslinger,” he said. “Little shit doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.”

“He works with my partner,” Jack shrugged.

“He works with your partner in hopes of getting to fuck him into his bed,” Reaper snorted. “Kid’s been the same since the day I scraped him off the streets. He’ll use whatever tactics he pleases but I highly doubt he’s interested in your partner beyond the novelty of fucking a cop.”

“Hmm,” Jack mused before he picked up his plate of waffles and headed for the table. “So, why are you here?”

“Who said there’s a reason?” Reaper growled as he followed Jack into the dining room.

“One of the most dangerous and wanted vigilantes in Overwatch shows up uninvited in my house and he doesn’t have a reason?” Jack asked with a smirk as he sat down. “You don’t think I’m that stupid, do you?”

Reaper let out a low chuckle as he sat down opposite Jack. “I was hoping there was a brain inside that golden head of yours,” he purred. “Good to see my faith wasn’t misplaced.”

Reaper interlaced his fingers in front of his mask and watched Jack as he ate. He didn’t say a word until Jack had washed the first waffle down with a swig of coffee.

“You are new to the force,” Reaper said slowly. “You’re still willing to trust your co-workers.”

“Should I not?” Jack lifted an eyebrow.

“Trust no one,” Reaper growled. “They’re all compromised. Not to the same degree, but they’d sell your ass out to the first mafia boss that threatened them with a thumb tack.”

Jack hummed in thought as he placed a mouthful of sausage onto his tongue. That wasn’t something he was comfortable dealing with, but perhaps that was the point. Overwatch was not small-town Indiana where he had gotten his training. He couldn’t be as trusting of his coworkers as he used to be. It would likely get him killed.

“You know this from experience,” Jack said as he looked at Reaper. “You serve on the force?”

Reaper turned his head away. “Once, when I was a different man,” he growled. “But times change and if you can’t change with it, you will be eliminated.”

“Like the cops you left black dahlia for,” Jack said as he sipped his coffee.

Reaper chuckled before he turned to look at Jack. “Someone did their research,” he said with obvious approval in his voice.

“Wasn’t hard to track down,” Jack shook his head. “I had barely typed in ‘Reaper’ to the database and a number of cases showed up. It’s why my partner was so worried about the bouquet you left me. He thought I was next.”

Reaper let out a long purr before he leaned forward. “You’re different, Captain Morrison,” he said. “Different than most of the cops that work here. You still have hope in your heart. I would be a monster if I tried to snuff it out. But, I must admit, it is so tempting to try to corrupt you.”

“I survived a war, Reaper,” Jack said as he lifted his empty plate and mug and got to his feet. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do to me to ‘corrupt’ me.”

“Is that a challenge?” Reaper asked with a long purr.

“No, it was a statement,” Jack said as he put his dirty dishes in the sink.

He grunted as Reaper crowded in against his back. His hands were pinned to the counter as Reaper pressed hard against him, growling softly in his ear. Jack waited three seconds before he slammed his head back into the mask and twisted to grab Reaper’s arm.

Everything happened too fast to remember. Reaper clearly hadn’t been expecting him to retaliate that quickly, but he was more than capable of fighting Jack off. Jack put up an impressive fight, but in the end, he was pinned on his back to the kitchen floor with a heavily panting Reaper above him. Jack’s chest heaved as he let out a breathless chuckle.

“Marine, huh?” he asked.

“Served for a few years before retiring,” Reaper shrugged a shoulder. “You?”

“Ranger,” Jack shook his head. “Not as impressive, but I’d rather have my boots on the solid ground. Call it a security blanket.”

“Mmm,” Reaper purred as he leaned forward. “More than impressive, Captain,” he said.

The bottom of the mask was shifted aside and Jack gasped as rough, scarred lips pressed against his. He groaned into Reaper’s mouth; the man knew how to kiss. Jack’s hands reached up to grasp the hood, not daring to reach for the mask. He was still pinned down, after all, and he didn’t want his throat ripped out. Reaper’s claws pushed into Jack’s hair, tipping his head back as those lips pulled away to kiss over his neck.

Reaper paused and let out a low growl, pulling his mask back into place. Jack blinked as he heard spurs on his hardwood flooring and lifted his head. The Gunslinger waved as he leaned on the doorframe with a very flustered Hanzo standing behind him.

“Well, not even a week and he’s already got you between his thighs,” Gunslinger teased. “Much as I would love the show, boss, got some information I think you’d like.”

“Such as?” Reaper growled as he got to his feet.

“Deadlock’s moving through town,” Gunslinger said as he headed for the dining room. “Got weapons that are way outside their paygrade. All carrying the same symbol of a certain terrorist group.”

“Talon,” Reaper snarled before he swept over to the table. “Show me.”

“What is Talon doing near Overwatch?” Jack demanded as he got to his feet.

The terrorist organization was well-known around the world for hitting high profile targets and leaving chaos in their wake. Why were they near Overwatch? The place hardly had too many note-worthy criminals or government officials to warrant an interest in. The city was densely populated, but that still wasn’t a reason to come poking their noses in. It didn’t make any sense.

“No clue,” Gunslinger shrugged. “That’s where Reaper comes in. If there’s anything he can use against them, he’ll find it.”

“Don’t know why you brought the ex-dragon here,” Reaper commented as he glared at Hanzo.

“He knew where Jack lived,” Gunslinger shrugged. “Figured I’d find you here trying to terrorize him. Didn’t think to find you on the floor getting ready to do your….”

“Shut up,” Reaper snapped. “I wasn’t about to do anything.”

“So what can be done about Deadlock?” Jack asked as he offered Hanzo a mug of coffee.

“Not much,” Hanzo grumbled. “They have Petras in their back pocket. So long as they do not give him a reason to act, they are free to traffic their guns.”

Jack stared at Hanzo in disbelief. “You’re kidding,” he whispered. “How can he get away with that?”

“Any information that is passed to the county law office mysteriously vanishes,” Hanzo snorted bitterly. “And don’t even bother with anyone else. They don’t care. We’re stuck in this festering sewer while Petras gets to live the good life.”

“I’m tellin’ ya, darlin’ being a vigilante is a lot more satisfyin’,” Gunslinger purred.

“You are insufferable,” Hanzo snapped.

“Aw, I bet ya say that to all the vigilantes that work with ya,” Gunslinger propped his chin in his hand.

Hanzo glared at the man before he sipped his coffee. “I work with no other vigilante,” he growled. “None of them can be trusted.”

“Aw, darlin’,” Gunslinger touched his chest right over his heart.

“Do not feel special, Gunslinger,” Hanzo snapped. “I don’t trust you either. Your information, however, is almost without flaw. I cannot afford to find a new info-rat.”

“Keep flirting and I’m going to be nauseous,” Reaper sneered as he held a hand out to Gunslinger. “Datadisk.”

Gunslinger dropped the disk into Reaper’s glove and the masked vigilante pocketed it. He got to his feet with a flutter of his cloak, walking back into the kitchen to crowd Jack against the counter. Jack lifted an eyebrow at the white mask before the bottom was brushed aside.

Reaper kissed him again, talons running down Jack’s chest and tugging gently at the edges of his housecoat. His tongue ran slowly over Jack’s lips as he pulled away.

“Next time, Gunslinger won’t be here to save you,” Reaper warned as he put his mask back into place.

“Who says there will be a next time?” Jack asked as he let his fingers curl in one of the many belts on Reaper’s hips.

“I know a lot of things,” Reaper purred as his claw ran under Jack’s jaw. “One of which being a sixth sense when someone wants me around. Try not to cream yourself thinking about me, _chico de oro_. I want to be here when you have your first mess in your pants at the thought of me.”

And just like that, Reaper was gone. Jack blinked after the ends of Reaper’s cape as he vanished from sight. He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. How could a man move that fast? It wasn’t natural.

“Well, I think I just got a very dangerous ally,” he said.

“Very dangerous,” Gunslinger agreed, “but also very useful. He won’t let anything bad happen to ya, Jack.”

Jack let out a soft hum before he offered to make more waffles.

* * *

 

Hanzo did his best not to blink as he spotted Gunslinger creeping into his office. He made a vague motion towards his office chair before he pushed his paperwork aside. Gunslinger dropped into the chair and pulled his scarf down to grin at him.

“Heya, sugar,” Gunslinger purred, “working late tonight.”

“I had a great deal of paperwork that I needed to file,” Hanzo replied. “What is it that you desire?”

“You,” Gunslinger smirked. “Never wanted anything so badly in my life.”

“You are a fool,” Hanzo shook his head. “I am not some blushing belle waiting for her cowboy to come rescue her.”

“You think about me too,” Gunslinger licked his lips. “Think of me pushing you down onto yer bed and fuckin’ ya until ya can’t make a sound. Want me on my knees beggin’ for yer cock.”

Hanzo felt heat rush to his face and suddenly the Gunslinger was straddling his lap. That cocky grin teased him before the Gunslinger’s mouth was hot over his. He swallowed every moan Hanzo made, refusing to let the smallest sound emerge. Hanzo felt his clothing melting away and he whimpered as Gunslinger’s hot cock rubbed against his stomach.

“Yer beautiful, Hanzo,” Gunslinger purred in his ear. “Makes me wanna do terrible things to ya.”

“Gunslinger,” Hanzo moaned before he snapped awake.

He bolted for his bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. His body was vibrating with desire and he didn’t dare look down at the painful erection in his pants. He was half-tempted to strip and throw himself into a cold shower, but it was the middle of the night and he didn’t need Genji coming to check on him. It was bad enough he was having wet dreams about the Gunslinger; he didn’t need his brother knowing how badly he desired the vigilante.

When he managed to get himself back under control, he stepped back into his room. He tensed in alarm as Gunslinger set his hat back on his head, hiding the slicked back brown locks. Gentle brown eyes watched him before the taller man got to his feet.

“Dreamin’ of me again?” he asked. “You always did bolt whenever I turned up.”

Hanzo wanted his gun. He wanted something solid between himself and Gunslinger. He wanted something more than just clothing keeping them apart. Kita had opted to sleeping on Genji’s bed, so he didn’t even have her to distract the vigilante.

Gunslinger walked over and trailed his robotic hand through Hanzo’s hair. Hanzo shivered, swallowing the snarl he had growing in his throat. Gunslinger’s flesh hand tipped Hanzo’s chin up towards him. Hanzo’s hands grabbed onto the man’s belt, needing something to hold onto as his legs threatened to give out under him.

“Let me be good to ya,” Gunslinger murmured. “Let me be more than a fantasy, Hanzo.”

Hanzo shook his head. “We are associates, nothing more,” he whispered. “It would be wrong to let this spiral out of control.”

“Ain’t no one that’s gotta know, darlin’,” Gunslinger chuckled. “I can be quiet if you can.”

Hanzo closed his eyes. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t.”

“But you want to,” Gunslinger kissed him.

“Yes,” Hanzo whimpered against Gunslinger’s lips. “Oh god, yes.”

“Then why don’t…?”

“No,” Hanzo said firmly and pushed Gunslinger away. “No. Not…not yet. I still….”

Gunslinger watched him quietly for a long moment before smiling. “Hey, waited this long, haven’t I? What’s a few more years?” he teased. His hands trailed down Hanzo’s shoulders before pulling him into a warm hug. “You look good in blue, Hanzo,” he murmured. “Makes yer eyes dance.”

Hanzo wrapped his arms around Gunslinger’s torso and returned the hug. He hid his face in the dark serape, shaking a little as he breathed in the scent of cigar, cheap cologne, and mint. This was Gunslinger’s scent, one unique to him. Hanzo was momentarily curious as to what he smelt like to his associate, but pushed it aside as Gunslinger helped him back into bed.

Hanzo laid down and shyly held onto Gunslinger’s metallic hand. Gunslinger smiled at him before gently starting to sing a lullaby. Hanzo let out a long sigh before he sank back into sleep, missing the sad look in Gunslinger’s eyes as he brushed Hanzo’s hair out of his face.

“Sweet dreams, my dragon,” Gunslinger murmured. “I got yer back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sexual tension between Jack and Reaper is starting to get palpable. And Hanzo wants Gunslinger so badly, but he must be the responsible one in life.


	4. Chapter 4

“Hanzo, I could use backup!” Jack shouted over the communicator. “Why the fuck haven’t you called HQ?!”

“There’s no way anyone could get here in time! This was supposed to be a routine check!” Hanzo shouted back. “They weren’t supposed to be here!”

“Tell that to the fucker with the AK!” Jack snorted. “Pretty sure he thinks he should be here!”

He peeked over the half-wall he had taken shelter behind and winced as the wall behind him was showered with bullets. A routine check, sure, sure. Wasn’t so routine when the apartment building they were sweeping had trigger-happy Deadlock members hiding out in it. Which, considering Petras had been eyeing him all week, probably meant the bastard had set them up. If he ever got a chance, he was kicking Petras hard between the legs and knocking what was left of the man’s balls back up into his spine.

“Keep your head down!” Hanzo ordered.

“Trying to see where they are,” Jack snapped. “Fucking hell, how many are there?”

“Too many,” Reaper’s voice cut into the communicator. “I would suggest you disengage and head for your cruiser.”

“Really hard to do, buddy, when I’m pinned down!” Jack snarled. “And how nice of you to show up when the bullets are already flying, asshole!”

“Shouldn’t talk about where you want him over an open commline,” Gunslinger teased. “Don’t worry, I’m going to start laying down the law so you can get your pretty face outta there. Wouldn’t want the newest face of Overwatch getting offed by Deadlock, would we?”

Jack rolled his eyes at the comment. Gunslinger was like a permanent fifteen year old making dick-jokes all day long. Real mature; go figure why Hanzo was more likely to punch the man than date him. Jack enjoyed sexual jokes as much as the next person, but even he had a limit to what he was willing to put up with. Gunslinger exceeded that limit within an hour.

He waited until he heard gunfire and startled yelps before he bolted from his hiding place. He jumped a railing down to the floor below and rolled on impact. His knees whined in protest to the motion, reminding him that he was not as young as he used to be regardless of how in shape he was. He came up out of the roll to find the barrel of a shotgun inches from his nose. He tensed, eyes darting up towards Reaper’s mask. Okay, the shotgun muzzle in the face was really getting old.

“Hi to you too,” Jack growled as he started to get to his feet.

The muzzle pressed between his eyes and Jack froze. This guy was kidding, right? Was he really going to shoot him? After all the purring and sweet talk Reaper had given him over the last few weeks and he was just going to shoot Jack’s head off? Ass. Hole.

“Don’t move,” Reaper growled. “Do as I say and this won’t get ugly.”

“I swear,” Jack growled.

“Trust me,” Reaper hissed. “I know what I’m doing, kid.”

“I’m pushing forty; I’m not a kid,” Jack bristled.

“Hush,” Reaper ordered as boots came running towards them. “And what took you boys so long?”

“Turncoat,” one of the men snapped. “Fucker was shooting at us and…well, well, what’s this you got, Reaper?”

Jack ground his molars together as Reaper’s gun forced his head back. It kept him from getting a good look at the men that had been shooting at him and Hanzo not too long ago. One of the Deadlock Rebels cackled as they walked over, the spurs on their boots clicking against the concrete floor. They grabbed Jack by the hair on the back of his head and wrenched him around, laughing louder at Jack’s pained hiss.

“Lookit that!” he cackled. “That’s one pretty cop you got there, Reaper!”

“Golden hair and blue eyes,” someone else snickered as they moved forward. “Wonder if he’s any good at giving head?”

“Oh please; a face like that doesn’t get to be a cop without knowing how to be a bottom bitch,” someone else laughed. “Classic twink; all looks and no brains! Even with those thick muscles; maybe he’s a blond meathead instead.”

“Indeed,” Reaper chuckled as he reached out and pulled Jack’s head against his hip.

Jack growled as Reaper’s talons pushed roughly through his hair. The claws scraped over his scalp and Jack grit his teeth together. Those claws were sharp enough to cut skin if Reaper wasn’t careful. He didn’t want a head wound because his associate decided to claw his hairline to shit. Reaper’s hips shifted and his face was pressed against the bulge between his legs. Jack recoiled in disgust, but Reaper’s talons tightened across the back of his head, holding him in place.

He didn’t actually expect him to give him a fucking blowjob, did he?! If Reaper’s pants opened even the barest inch, he was going for the knife on his belt and jamming it up into Reaper’s pelvis. He’d give the fucker a full castration, free of charge. He was not a playtoy!

“It’s too bad I don’t share,” Reaper said.

His shotgun rose and three furious blasts left the three Deadlock Rebels choking on blood. They curled up on the ground, holding their mutilated chests as blood gushed out over the concrete. Reaper walked forward and blasted each of their heads apart without a moment’s hesitation. Jack covered his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut to hide from the image. That was almost as bad as the things he’d seen happen on the frontlines. Almost.

“That wasn’t necessary,” he hissed.

“It was,” Reaper snorted. “It’ll show them who is in charge around here.”

“They knew you,” Jack growled as he got to his feet, stumbling a little as the scent of blood punched him in the nose. “They were happy to see you.”

“You don’t get to be where I am without knowing how to move through the local gangs,” Reaper shrugged. “What? You look surprised.”

Jack took two steps forward and drove his fist as hard as he could across Reaper’s stupid mask. The slightly taller man stumbled, growling as he reached up to touch the damaged mask. Jack’s knuckles were bleeding and the wound itched where the skin had split open. It was nothing compared to the fury eating away at him.

Reaper had just treated him like his personal cocktoy. It might have distracted the Rebels, sure, but there were other ways to do that. He didn’t need to shove Jack’s face into his crotch and encourage the fuckers to talk like he was Reaper’s whore. It was insulting and belittling and Jack was not going to stand for it.

“If you ever treat me like that again,” Jack growled as he took a step forward.

Reaper grabbed him and dragged him in close. Jack swung a fist, but Reaper caught it and pinned it behind his back. The bone-white mask was moved to the side and Jack got a good look at a graying black goatee and beautiful bronze skin before scarred lips were pressed heatedly over his. His back met a wall as Reaper’s tongue pushed past his teeth. He bit down, not to drive the tongue out but to keep it captive. If Reaper thought that he was getting away this time, he was out of his damn mind.

Reaper had been teasing him for weeks and he was taking what he wanted now. The fucker treated him like shit; he was going to make him regret that.

Reaper growled and pushed his hips hard against Jack’s. One clawed hand rolled down Jack’s chest, catching on every pocket on his uniform before tugging at his belt. Jack wrapped his arms around Reaper’s shoulders, pulling him close as his hand settled on the back of the black hood.

“Reaper,” he groaned as Reaper pulled back, his teasing already done for the moment. He was too old for this bullshit. “My house. Ten o’clock.”

“See you then,” Reaper purred before he kissed him one more time.

Like every time before, Reaper turned on his heels and vanished from sight. Jack was left panting, his shirt torn a little at the shoulder, the buttons near the top missing, and his pants painfully tight. Not even the scent of blood and shit could kill his raging hard on.

***

“Aw, no sexy lingerie?” Reaper asked as he leaned on the doorframe.

He was still wearing his blood-covered costume, but Jack could smell the sharp scent of freshly-applied cologne. So the man was looking to make a good impression even if he hadn’t bothered to get changed. Good. This might not be a bad idea after all.

“I don’t look good in lingerie,” Jack said as he glanced over his shoulder.

He was just finishing his dishes; he’d been doing them for the past few hours to keep his brain from chasing imaginary scenarios. He’d needed a distraction. Part of him regretted inviting Reaper over for a hard fuck. Another part was appalled that he was looking for a fast fuck in the first place.

“Everyone looks good in lingerie,” Reaper laughed.

“Not this soldier,” Jack shook his head. “Surprised you showed. Was expecting you to stand me up.”

“And miss the chance to fuck the pretty cop into his bed?” Reaper purred as he stepped forward and trailed his claws over Jack’s cheek. “I wouldn’t pass that up for the world, _cariño_.”

“I speak Spanish, asshole,” Jack rolled his eyes. “Keep the pet names to yourself.”

“So you don’t want to hear pet names but you’re fine with my claws?” Reaper asked with a low chuckle.

“This isn’t love-making, Reaper,” Jack snorted as he pulled away and headed for his room. “This is two old fuckers relieving their sexual frustrations before it gets one of them killed. Because that was way too close today for my liking.”

Reaper followed him at a sedated pace. “And what makes you think I have sexual frustrations, Morrison?”

“You pushed my face into your groin when you were getting ready to execute those Deadlock Rebels and then you jumped me after I punched you,” Jack snorted as he pulled his shirt off over his head. “You clearly need something to take the edge off. May as well be me so I can get some enjoyment out of it too.”

Jack shivered as those dangerous claws trailed down his chest. Reaper’s mask nuzzled into his neck before his body pressed in against Jack’s back. Oh, that felt nice. A nice warm, solid body against his back ready to make him see Heaven. Fantasies do come true, he supposed.

“You got blown up,” Reaper murmured as he touched the innumerable burn and shrapnel scars.

Jack did his best not to think about the accident. He’d only stopped waking up from nightmares in a cold sweat a few years ago. The less he dwelled on how close he had come to being a roasted carcass on the side of the road for the local wildlife to feast on, the saner he remained. He didn’t have time to count his fingers and toes anymore.

“Early retirement,” Jack shrugged a shoulder. “Major nerve damage that was only repaired thanks to clinical trials for some…ethically ambiguous surgeries and drugs.”

“Is this why you think you look bad in lingerie?” Reaper asked softly.

Jack rolled his eyes before he stepped out of the larger man’s embrace and kicked his jeans off. He didn’t want to admit how much courage it had taken to even pull his shirt off with Reaper in the room. He’d hoped that the man would be too horny and eager to notice and would fuck him and leave. He seemed to have underestimated how in control of himself Reaper was.

“Still hung up on the damn lingerie,” he commented, trying to throw Reaper off of the fact that Jack wasn’t trying to be sexy for him. “Keep it up and you’ll be wasting my time.”

Jack let out a gasp as he was grabbed and slammed face down on his bed. He groaned under the weight on his back. Claws pulled across his shoulders as Reaper settled down against his hips. Jack tried to roll over, wanted to help pull all of those tauntingly tight layers off, but Reaper pushed him back down, holding him still as he leaned in close.

Sharp teeth trailed over his ear before the lobe was pulled tightly between the teeth. Jack arched into the man pinning him down, groaning as he felt those claws pulling at his underwear. Reaper’s hands fondled his sack and pumped his cock, drawing a long groan from him.

“Could let me help,” Jack said as he tried to get to his elbows.

“Don’t move,” Reaper growled. “I haven’t given you permission to.”

“I’m not into dominance play, Reaper,” Jack snapped. “Let me up.”

“You like it when I pin you,” Reaper chuckled.

“Doesn’t mean I intend to get ordered around,” Jack felt heat creep over his cheeks. “And it’s the weight and pressure I like; you try living your life with half-dead nerve endings and not develop a liking for a little bit of rough play.”

“Hmm,” Reaper purred before he flipped Jack onto his back and loomed over him. “You don’t say.”

“Would you stop randomly flipping me around?” he demanded. “I can’t take that. Do you know how easy I can get whiplash?”

“You aren’t that old,” Reaper shook his head.

“Take that damn mask off; I’m not fucking a dead man,” Jack growled as he reached for the mask.

He wanted to get the subject off of him. He didn’t want Reaper getting this close already. He’d been stupid to want to have sex with him, but he knew this was the only way to satisfy his desires. He just needed to distract him; going for the mask would certainly do that for him.

“Oh, but you are,” Reaper laughed as he reached up to pin Jack’s hand to the side of his mask. “The mask stays on. I do not let my fuckmates see my pretty face.”

“Fine,” Jack snapped before he grabbed one of the belts around Reaper’s waist and started fighting to get them off. “Rest of it comes off.”

He was a little surprised by how willing Reaper was to let Jack strip him. They rolled backwards, letting Jack dominate Reaper’s mouth as he slowly peeled layer after layer of leather and Kevlar off. His hands roamed eagerly over bronze flesh, squeezing the taunt muscles. Veins stood out under the flesh, a clear sign that Reaper was getting older and was no longer benefiting from the vigor of youth. Black hair covered his chest and ran in a thin line towards the thatch of coarse black hair growing just above his cock.

Jack toyed with the jockstrap before pulling it off and tossing it aside. He lost focus half-way through the toss and stared at the massive cock straining up against Reaper’s stomach. His mouth ran dry before he pushed his fingers through his hair.

“You could have warned me,” he commented dryly as his own cock twitched eagerly at the sight.

Reaper lounged against the footboard and Jack could feel the smug satisfaction rolling off of him. “What, and miss this adorable reaction?” he asked. “You afraid of me splitting you in two, Jack?”

“Fuck you,” Jack snapped before he reached over to his nightstand and pulled out a bottle of lubricant.

“Isn’t that what you want me to do?” Reaper laughed.

“I could kick you out of my house with nothing on,” Jack snapped as he threw the bottle at Reaper. “Get yourself ready.”

“You are so touchy,” Reaper commented as he covered his cock with a condom and then smothered it in lubricant.

“And you’re a jackass,” Jack retorted as he pushed two fingers into himself and started scissoring his entrance open. “Fuck.”

It had been a while since he had played with himself and he was a little bit too tight to try for two fingers right away. However, he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible so that he could get the sexual urges for the vigilante out of his system. He couldn’t spend every encounter staring at the man’s crotch hoping to be smothered in his heat. That would get him killed and then get other people killed. Not worth it.

“Slow down,” Reaper chuckled as he reached out to grab Jack’s wrist. “You have another fuckbuddy showing up that you want me gone for?”

Jack glared at the other man, his fingers still spread wide inside of him. He shook his head and curled his fingers, stretching his walls out as much as he could before the pain became too much.

“Jack,” Reaper soothed before he leaned in to kiss him. “Please, look at me. I don’t like hate-sex. It’s not satisfying.”

“What else are we going to call it?” Jack demanded as he pulled his fingers out and wiped them on his bedsheets. “You have a hundred other lovers you could go shove your dick in so I’m hardly anything special.”

“I’m flattered that you think I’m that promiscuous, but no,” Reaper shook his head. “Not my style. I’m here to make love to the pretty blond cop that’s been invading my private thoughts with his grumpy smile and commanding voice.”

“Don’t flatter me,” Jack snapped. “Just fuck me and get it over with.”

Reaper drew back. “Get it over with?” he demanded. “Wow, that’s not something anyone wants to hear, Jack. Very unflattering.”

“I don’t want to think about you!” Jack almost shouted but managed to resist. “I don’t want you running around in my head when I’m supposed to be doing my job. I need…I need to focus. I can’t…I can’t….”

“Jack,” Reaper soothed as he gently cupped Jack’s face. “Oh _cariño_ , don’t hurt yourself.” Jack glared at him and Reaper kissed him. “Ssh, don’t give me that look. Where has resisting attraction ever gotten anyone?”

“You’re dangerous,” Jack said quietly. “You’re a cop killer. If anyone figures out that we’re associates, or worse, lovers, I could be thrown in jail.”

Thrown in jail; ran out of town; possibly be found dead floating in the closest river a few weeks from now. Really, the result would be the same. His name, his accomplishments, and his life would be brought to a screeching halt. He didn’t want that.

“I would get you out,” Reaper chuckled as he ran his claws through Jack’s hair. “I know all the ways in and out of the prisons in Overwatch. It’s not hard.”

“That’s not comforting,” Jack looked away. “How do I know you aren’t going to kill me?”

“I have no intention of playing black widow,” Reaper soothed. He gently moved Jack’s knees apart and settled between his thighs. “I have every intention of making you scream, though.”

“Yes, because you’re totally capable of THAT!” Jack let out a shriek of surprise as Reaper pushed the head of his cock into his entrance. “HOLY SHIT!”

“Weren’t ready?” Reaper asked as he sat there waiting.

Jack glared at him before surging forward to pull himself into Reaper’s lap and loom over him. “You start thrusting now or I get the gun out of the nightstand,” he snapped.

Reaper’s exposed lips curled into a dangerous smile. “Oh, that’s a dangerous threat to make,” he purred as his hands settled on Jack’s hips. “Hold on tight, cowboy.”

* * *

 

“Heading out!” Genji called as he pulled his jacket over his specially-made mesh suit.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Hanzo sighed as Kita bumped against his leg. “And try to be back before the sun.”

“Vigilantism has no curfew,” Genji grinned as he pulled his hood up over his head.

“Maybe not, but you wake me up on my day off and I’ll shred that suit,” Hanzo warned as he stirred his soup on the stove.

“You’re so grumpy,” Genji laughed. “Love you, Hanzo.”

“Love you too, you ungrateful shit,” Hanzo smiled after his younger brother as he left the house.

Kita leaned on his hip and whined for attention. He pushed his fingers through her soft fur as he continued stirring his soup. The silence in the house was almost deafening. He hated it when Genji went out to play vigilante. He was still so young and he had dreams of grandeur that didn’t belong in his head. He didn’t understand why so many people tried to play vigilante in the city, but at least most of them didn’t interfere with official police work. Usually. Genji was smart enough to leave police work to the police and just scare the shit out of the local drug peddlers.

Kita let out a greeting bark and got to her feet. Hanzo glanced over his shoulder and sighed as Gunslinger knelt down to croon at the retired police dog.

“Can’t you use a door like a normal person?” he asked.

“Where would the fun be in that, sugar?” Gunslinger laughed as Kita snuggled against him. “Aw, I missed you too, Kita. Who’s my favourite girl?”

Hanzo shook his head as he turned the stove off. “You spoil all of my companions.”

“She’s a good girl; she deserves love,” Gunslinger shot him a smirk before he pulled his scarf off and set it on the counter. “You and Jack’re okay?”

“We are; Jack was in a poor mood but that is unsurprisingly considering Reaper had him at gunpoint,” Hanzo sighed. “Although, I think they are…likely fornicating at this point.”

“Hate-sex; not really Reaper’s style,” Gunslinger frowned.

Hanzo shrugged a shoulder as he stirred the soup to distribute the heat. He heard Gunslinger move and was not surprised when warm, thick arms wrapped around his waist. He reached up to pat the other man’s cheek before he pulled away to pour the soup into two bowls.

“You are hungry,” Hanzo said as he pushed the bowl into Gunslinger’s gloved hands. “You’re always more affectionate when you’re hungry.”

“Aw, sugar, that’s just mean,” he smiled as they sat down at the table. “I’m always affectionate with you.”

Hanzo snorted as he started spooning the rich broth into his mouth. “You are worse when you are hungry.”

Gunslinger let out a snort before he started eating. He made appreciative noises as his soft eyes looked at Hanzo. Kita settled down under Hanzo’s chair, her head on her paws. They ate in companionable silence, neither feeling the need to speak; a rarity for Gunslinger. Usually he ran his damn mouth until Hanzo was tempted to stuff a sock in it.

“Yer a fantastic cook,” Gunslinger said as he stood up to collect their dirty dishes.

“Anything is better than that garbage you insist I pay you with,” Hanzo shuddered as he got to his feet.

“Hey, I eat more than just greasy burgers,” Gunslinger pouted. “I just love watching your disgusted looks when I’m eating it.”

“You are a strange man,” Hanzo shook his head as Gunslinger put the bowls in the sink.

“What? You get this adorable little wrinkle between yer eyebrows and yer lips get all pouty,” Gunslinger teased as he stretched his arms over his head and groaned.

“Very strange,” Hanzo shook his head again.

He groaned softly as Gunslinger’s lips pressed over his and a warm arm snaked around his waist. He looked up at the vigilante and smiled sadly.

“Gunslinger,” he murmured.

“Yer gorgeous, darlin’,” Gunslinger murmured as he pulled the glove off of his hand and gently stroked over Hanzo’s face. “Can’t stop thinking about ya.”

“I’m sure you tell that to all of the cops you work with,” Hanzo said as he tried to turn away.

“They ain’t like you, Hanzo,” Gunslinger chuckled. “Ain’t as smart. Ain’t as sturdy. Ain’t as beautiful.”

“You flatter me,” Hanzo glared at him.

Gunslinger kissed him again and those rough, callused fingers brushed over his cheek. Hanzo opened his mouth, head spinning in delight. Gunslinger did not take advantage of him, keeping his kisses from growing too intimate.

“I ain’t gunna push, Hanzo,” Gunslinger murmured. “Both of us live dangerous lives. I ain’t gunna make you do something you ain’t comfortable doin’.”

Hanzo rested his cheek against Gunslinger’s throat. “I don’t know your na-,” he started to say.

“Jesse,” Gunslinger chuckled. “My name’s Jesse.”

Hanzo blinked before he let out a soft sigh. “Jesse,” he smiled. “That’s much easier to say than ‘Gunslinger’.”

He gently took Jesse’s hands and guided him towards the couch. There was a few movies out that he wanted to watch and he always did hate watching movies alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexual tension finally pays off. Probably not in a healthy way, but hey, they're two grown men. They'll be fine~
> 
> And Hanzo learns Gunslinger's name. Or, at least, his first name. If he's even telling the truth.


	5. Chapter 5

Jack flicked through the pages of the report and didn’t bother looking up as Reaper stepped into his office. The vigilante breezed over and sat down on the edge of the desk, cocking his head to the side. How Reaper was able to walk into headquarters without the entire place going into lockdown was not something that Jack could understand.

“You’ve been working late,” Reaper said as he tapped a claw against the bobble-head pug.

“Lot of paperwork,” Jack said. “Amazing how much that happens when you have to deal with vigilantes fucking up the crime scenes.”

“You’ve been looking up information on me,” Reaper said.

“Of course,” Jack snorted. “I’d be stupid not to.”

“Find anything interesting?” Reaper chuckled.

“You’ve killed a lot of cops,” Jack said as he looked up from his report. Reaper clearly was hoping for a conversation and Jack wasn’t getting out of it any time soon. “And you have a thing for blonds.”

“Envious?” Reaper purred as he leaned forward.

“Hardly,” Jack snorted before he closed the report and got to his feet. “I’m surprised that the guards didn’t freak when you walked in.”

“Who says they saw me?” Reaper chuckled. “I know all the ways in and out of this building, _oro_. If I want in, there’s nothing that can stand in my way.”

“Good to know,” Jack snorted before he looked at Reaper. “So, what did you want?”

“You up for supper?” Reaper asked.

“You broke into Overwatch Police Headquarters to ask me to supper?” Jack arched an eyebrow.

“Are you opposed to the idea?”

Jack shook his head in amusement. He’d thought that having sex with Reaper would help dispel all the pent of sexual tension between them. Instead, it had kick started something else, something he wasn’t sure what to call it. They weren’t dating, but Reaper showed up at his house every night to make sure he was okay. He’d do dishes or cook supper; one time he’d even come home to him vacuuming his house. It was strange and wonderful and Jack wasn’t sure if he wanted it to go further.

Could he really be in a relationship with a vigilante? Their entire motif was based on secrecy and distraction. There was no way that they could have a healthy relationship with Jack knowing that Reaper was breaking the law to deliver his personal brand of justice.

“I didn’t say I was opposed to the idea,” Jack chuckled. “I’m just surprised you risked getting caught for something that insignificant.”

“Insignificant?” Reaper laughed. “ _Cariño_ , how cruel. I’ll have you know I spent all day setting up for this.”

“All day?” Jack arched an eyebrow. “That’s…rather intimidating.”

“Takes a while to lug a table up a fire escape,” Reaper laughed. “Meet me on the corner of Fifth and Sunrise around six.”

“That gives me an hour to get home, get changed, and walk there,” Jack glared at him. “You’re an ass.”

Reaper chuckled as he walked over and shifted his mask aside. They kissed and Jack chuckled against Reaper’s lips. He brushed his knuckles against the soft beard before Reaper put the mask back in place. Reaper’s hand trailed down his hip before he turned and left the office. Jack shook his head after him before he packed up his desk and stuffed the report into his bookbag. There was no way that he could concentrate with an actual date with Reaper hanging over his head.

He got home and showered quickly. He did not want to drown himself in cologne to cover any unpleasant smells. He ruffled his hair until it was dry, combing his fingers through it nervously. This was a date. A date with his not-boyfriend who had lugged a table up a fire escape for some reason. He had no idea _why_ , but it was probably interesting, right? Right.

He changed into a pair of loose jeans and a blue button up, chewing on his lip nervously. What was he; sixteen going on his first date? Yup. Yup he was a sixteen year old in a thirty-seven year old’s body just about having a panic attack over the fact that he was having supper with the vigilante that may or may not have stolen his heart and was quiet capable of toying with it but didn’t seem to be..

He was so fucked.

He took a deep breath and stuffed his wallet into the front pocket of his jeans. He ran his fingers one more time through his hair before he locked the door behind him and headed out into the evening. He leaned on the wall of the building on the corner of Fifth and Sunrise, glancing around for Reaper.

“Are you always early?” Reaper purred in his ear as familiar claws wrapped around his wrist.

“I try to be,” Jack chuckled as he let himself be pulled into the alley. “You always so dramatic?”

Reaper smiled and Jack stared at the beautiful white and gold masque he had over his nose and eyes. Beautiful brown eyes twinkled at him as Reaper leaned forward and offered his hand.

“Ah, _mi sol_ , you look as lovely as ever. I knew getting dressed up for you would be worth my time,” he chuckled.

“I’m hardly dressed up,” Jack wrinkled his nose. “I’m in a button-up and jeans. This is extremely casual.”

“Ah, but it looks magnificent on you, _mi sol_ ,” Reaper smiled.

“I love your smile,” Jack said as he took the offered hand. “I wish I saw it more.”

“It is only for you, _mi sol_ ,” Reaper chuckled as he led Jack up a fire escape. “No one else makes me smile like you do. No one ever could. It’s special, just like you.”

Jack rolled his eyes as he stepped onto the roof. Typical Reaper being a typical smooth-talker. He whistled at the table set up for two in the center of the roof and walked over to it. He sat down and shook his head, smiling at Reaper as he sat down opposite him.

“You went all out,” Jack teased as Reaper poured them both a glass of red wine. “Surprised it’s not a steak dinner.”

“Steak gets cold too fast,” Reaper shrugged a shoulder as he swirled his wine glass. “Besides, I figured you’d prefer pasta and chicken.”

Jack chuckled as he slowly started eating. “That masque looks good on you,” he said. “You should wear it more often.”

“I saved it for a special occasion,” Reaper shrugged as he started eating. “And I want to be able to eat without having to worry about my usual mask getting in the way.”

“But you don’t want to show me your face,” Jack sighed.

“No one gets to see my face,” Reaper said. “Too much of a risk.”

“Must get lonely,” Jack commented as he twirled his fork through the long noodles. “Having to keep yourself so distant from others. I’d almost call you ‘Bruce Wayne’, but you would happily kill someone if you could justify it to yourself.”

“I have on a number of occasions,” Reaper said as he cleaned his mouth and beard with a napkin. “My reasons are usually quite good.”

“Like killing a thief?” Jack smirked.

“I said usually,” Reaper purred. “But, either way, it brought the handsomest cop in town to me so I can’t feel too bad.”

“Charmer,” Jack laughed before he leaned forward. “So you won’t even tell me your name?” he asked.

“No,” Reaper shook his head. “Not yet. Someday, but not now.”

“Trust issues, huh?” Jack sighed and smiled.

“In this line of work, you learn to be suspicious of everyone,” Reaper smiled as he popped a piece of chicken into his mouth.

“Sounds exhausting,” Jack mused as he sipped his wine and licked his lips clean. “Don’t think I would last a year.”

“You’re too much of a boy scout,” Reaper chuckled. “You play by the books for everything. You’d make a terrible vigilante.”

“Good to know,” Jack smiled. “You’re so willing to break the rules that I’d be worried about you being a cop.”

Reaper’s smile vanished immediately. Jack scrambled to take it back, but Reaper stood up. He walked around the table and gently cupped Jack’s face, lifting it up towards him. He pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to Jack’s face before crouching down so they were eye level with each other.

“I was a cop before this,” he said. “One of the finest. But people I thought I could trust betrayed me. Reaper rose from the ashes of that man’s life and I never looked back.”

Jack reached out and gently cupped Reaper’s face, stroking over the flesh that was exposed under the masque. Reaper leaned into the touch, closing his beautiful brown eyes as he exhaled slowly.

“I’m sorry,” Jack murmured.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Jack,” Reaper chuckled before he straightened up. “What did you think of supper?” he asked.

“It was good,” Jack smiled as he cleaned up his plate with a chunk of garlic bread. “Your cooking skills are amazing.”

Reaper chuckled before he sat down in his chair and lifted a plate of cookies onto the table. “You haven’t seen anything yet, _oro_ ,” he teased. “I will fatten that waist and ass of yours up without any trouble.”

“My waist and ass are fine,” Jack pouted as he snagged a sugar cookie and stuffed it in his mouth.

Reaper licked his lips lewdly before he picked up a cookie and munched on it. “Mmm, but a little bit of extra cushion would be amazing, don’t you agree?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so rough,” Jack smirked as he shook his head.

“Mmm, but you love it when I’m rough,” Reaper purred and licked his lips. “It’s so tempting to get you out of those jeans right here and now and make you scream.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Jack grimaced. “It’s kind of cold. I’d rather be wrapped in warmth as you ravish me.”

Reaper threw his head back and laughed. “Ah, if I didn’t know how loud you screamed and begged, I’d call you my little vanilla bean,” he teased.

“Nothing wrong with vanilla,” Jack snorted as he picked up another cookie. “It’s the base flavour of most things. A good starting point.”

Reaper let out a long sigh before he shook his head. “I will make you think differently, _mi sol_ , if it is the last thing I do.”

* * *

 

Hanzo stretched out on his bed and waited. Kita was lying by the foot of the bed, her tail wagging slowly as she kept her gaze on the window. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes.

Jesse pushed his way into the room through the window and Kita leaped forward. She slammed her paws onto Jesse’s chest, almost knocking him to the ground. He chuckled and ruffled her ears, working her into a pile of happy fluff on the groudn.

“Hey, Kita; missed me already?” he teased before he pulled his scarf off. “Hey, Hanzo. How’s my favourite dragon?”

“Tired,” Hanzo murmured. “Petras has been on my ass for a report I never remember agreeing to write.”

“Must be close to something important then,” Jesse mused before he pulled his hat off and set it down beside his scarf. “You want me out of uniform?”

“Please,” Hanzo sighed.

Jesse dutifully stripped out of everything except for his underwear and crawled into bed beside Hanzo. He curled around Hanzo and ran his fingers through his hair, smiling down at him. Hanzo shook his head in amusement before he looked up at the ceiling.

“Your devotion is a little unsettling,” Hanzo said.

“Don’t mean it to be,” Jesse chuckled. “Just hard to believe that I even get to hold you.”

Hanzo chuckled and turned his head to look at Jesse. He shook his head as Kita stealthily climbed onto the bed and flopped across their feet. She wagged her tail when they looked at her, pushing her head forward eagerly for pets. Jesse laughed and reached down to scratch behind her ears, cooing at her.

Hanzo smiled at the sight before he rested his head on Jesse’s hairy chest. He breathed in the sharp scent of his sweat, loving the smell even more than his sweet cologne. Jesse’s arm wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him in close.

“AW!” Genji squealed. “You’re so cute!”

Hanzo winced and shot his brother a glare. Genji still had his stupid Sparrow outfit on and he had his hands clasped in front of his nose. Hanzo could see his massive grin around his fingers and it pissed him off.

“Have you never heard of knocking?” he demanded.

“When were you going to tell me that you were dating Gunslinger?” Genji demanded. “I would have baked a cake!”

Hanzo felt heat creep up his face and he looked away from his brother. “Maybe I haven’t come to terms with it yet,” he snapped.

“Ow,” Jesse teased as he sat up. “Darlin’ that goes right to the heart.”

Hanzo burrowed his way under the blankets and pulled them up over his head. He didn’t whine, but he wished he could. It wasn’t fair that Genji showed up before he was ready to say that he was seeing the Gunslinger. Jesse settled against his back and pulled him in close.

“Genji, could you leave us, please?” Jesse asked. “Darlin’s a little miserable at the moment. You really should knock.”

“Geeze, you really are a good match for him,” Genji laughed. “Alright, alright, I’m going. But you’d better treat my brother right. Or I’ll kick your ass back to the ranch you ran away from.”

Jesse chuckled as he rested his head on Hanzo’s covered shoulder. He hugged Hanzo close, not pushing anything until Hanzo rolled over and snuggled in close.

“I’m sorry,” Hanzo whispered.

“Nah, I understand, darlin’,” Jesse chuckled. “Someone like you ain’t used to admittin’ that you like someone. I don’t have a problem with that, darlin’.”

“You sure?” Hanzo asked.

“Yah,” Jesse kissed his cheek. “Don’t you worry yer head about it.”

Hanzo let out a soft laugh before he snuggled closer and closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, Reaper and Jack's first official date. Aren't they just the most adorable, weirdest, hopeless old men you've ever seen? And of course Reaper has a thousand different masks to choose from.
> 
> And little brothers continue to ruin moments even when they're both adults. Seriously, Genji, knock!


	6. Chapter 6

Hanzo frowned as he was called into Petras’ office. It wasn’t very often that the Chief of Police called anyone into their office. Petras’ withered face looked more tired than usual, the thick bags under his eyes looking like ugly bruises. He did his best not to curl his lip at his boss as he stood at attention.

“You wished to speak with me, sir?” he asked.

“Talon has delivered a ransom note,” Petras said as he turned a small portable holovid player towards him. “Directed to you specifically.”

Hanzo stared at the screen as it turned on. A man in a pale mask with red contacts in their eyes stared back at him. They tilted their head slowly to the side before inclining it.

“Good day, Hanzo Shimada,” the figure said. A tremor of fear rolled down Hanzo’s spine. “We have something very precious to you. We will return it only when you bring the Gunslinger to us.” The video swung to the side and Hanzo covered his mouth in horror.

Genji was strapped to a chair, his face bloody. He looked up as someone sneered at him. His eyes were still focused; they had beaten him, but he was still coherent. He ran his tongue over his lips before he lunged forward.

“Don’t do anything they say! I’ll get out of this myself! I’m fi-!”

Hanzo let out a shriek of fury as Genji was struck hard across the face with a bat. He spat a mouthful of blood on the ground, whimpering as he lifted his gaze to the man holding the bat. The camera panned away from Genji as he let out another scream of pain and returned to the man in the mask.

“You have a week to deliver Gunslinger to us. You will know where to go.”

The sound of Genji screaming filled the room before the video ended. Hanzo sank into a chair and pushed his fingers up into his hair. His breathing came in short gasps as tears burned his eyes.

Talon had Genji. Talon had Genji. How had Talon gotten their hands on Genji!? Genji wasn’t some stupid, spoiled child. He had been trained from childhood in the ways of ninjitsu and was a decorated kickboxer. How the fuck had they managed to subdue his brother?

“Hanzo, I know that you work closely with The Gunslinger, but it would be wise to think Talon’s offer over carefully,” Petras said.

Hanzo nodded numbly as he got to his feet. He excused himself and headed for his office, not caring if he was coming across as suspicious or insubordinate. It wasn’t Petras’ brother being held hostage. He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and dialed Jesse’s number, his breathing shallow.

“And how can I help you today, gorgeous?” Jesse drawled as he answered. “Need yer favourite stud to come keep you company?”

“They have Genji,” Hanzo whispered.

“What?” Jesse demanded.

“They have Genji,” he said as he pushed the door to his office open and slammed it shut behind him. “Talon has Genji!”

There was silence before Hanzo heard Jesse scrambling around whatever room he was in. “Listen, I’m goin’ to send you some coordinates. You meet me there and don’t tell anyone about where yer goin’. We’ll figure this out. Just keep breathin’.”

He hung up before Hanzo could answer. Hanzo stared at his phone until a message from Jesse flashed across the screen. He blinked at the coordinates before punching them into his GPS app. He grabbed his coat and headed out of the station.

It took him the better part of an hour to find the underground parking garage. He saw Jesse in his Gunslinger get up and started walking towards him. He didn’t care if he was about to get ambushed. He didn’t care if a bunch of men descended on him to kill him. All he cared about was Jesse and figuring out how to save his brother.

Reaper grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against a pillar, jamming a shotgun under his jaw. Hanzo stared at his mask blankly, tears pricking his eyes.

“They want Gunslinger,” he whispered. “They have my brother and they want Gunslinger.”

“This is why we don’t get into relationships, Jesse,” Reaper snapped as he let Hanzo drop. “How are we supposed to save his kid brother without you getting torn apart as Talon’s newest experiment? You want to become the next Widowmaker?”

“I’m still thinking,” Jesse snapped. “Fuck, Reaper, it’s not like I thought this was going to happen! Talon was quiet for so long….”

“So you let your guard down,” Reaper snarled as turned towards Jesse. “You let your guard down and now your life is in danger! Did you learn _nothing_ from the lessons I taught you!?”

“This from the guy fuckin’ Jack Morrison every chance he gets,” Jesse snarled. “You think you’re so clever, don’t ya? Think no one notices the way you trail after the Golden Boy? Everyone fuckin’ knows, Reaper. I’m surprised Talon doesn’t already have him too! Wouldn’t that just be the cherry on top of the cake? They have Reaper’s boyfriend in their clutches and there isn’t a damn thing you could do about it.”

Reaper grew deathly still and Hanzo heard him inhale sharply. Without a word, he spun around and stalked off, his long coat snapping behind him. Hanzo watched him go before he turned back to Jesse.

“I don’t know what to do,” Hanzo whispered. “How can I throw you at Talon’s feet to save my brother? I won’t compromise your safety for his; you both mean the world to me.”

“We’ll figure somethin’ out, don’t worry,” Jesse soothed as he opened his arms. “Trust me, Talon doesn’t expect you to hand me over. We gotta be smarter than them, that’s all.”

Hanzo stepped into Jesse’s embrace and let out a soft sob. This was his kid brother they were talking about. He couldn’t just abandon him. But how could he throw Jesse under the bus to accomplish that? He loved them both equally and would do anything to protect them. When had his life descended into this chaos? He’d come to Overwatch to get away from this bullshit; why did it have to follow him?

* * *

 

Jack had decided to work from home for once and Petras had been unusually fast to agree. It made him nervous, but there wasn’t anything he could do to pinpoint why his boss being amicable made him nervous. It should have been reassuring that his boss trusted him enough to work from home. Except there had to be a reason Petras was willing to give him access to files that shouldn’t have left the station.

He tapped away on his keyboard, searching through all the files he could find on retired cops that had worked on the force. There were hundreds to look through, but none of them struck him as particularly Reaper-like. No matter who he looked at, they were all wrong. Skin tone, height, weight, disposition; nothing matched up at all. It was frustrating.

He wanted to know who it was that he was falling in love with. Reaper wasn’t telling him anything and it was frustrating. He wanted to know more about him; Reaper knew so much about him already and the imbalance was starting to grind at his nerves.

He glanced up as he heard the door to his house open. His hand settled on the handgun on his desk; better safe than sorry considering how many enemies Reaper had. He strained his ears to figure out who was in his house, hoping for some clue before he accidentally shot someone innocent. Reaper threw the door to his office open and stood there panting. Jack blinked before he got to his feet.

“Reaper?” he asked.

Reaper swept across the room and grabbed him. “I thought you were gone,” Reaper hissed before he crushed Jack against his chest. “I’m so stupid for falling in love with you! I know it’s dangerous. Talon could come get you next.”

“What?” Jack demanded in confusion.

Reaper moved his mask to the side and kissed Jack tenderly. Jack sighed into the kiss, returning it eagerly as Reaper’s hands rolled down his back. He had no idea what was going on, but Reaper was clearly distressed and it was best to wait for him to get his thoughts in order. If he got sweet, tender kisses in the meantime, all the better for him.

“Talon has Shimada’s younger brother,” Reaper murmured. “They want Gunslinger in exchange. I cannot allow that exchange to occur, but I know that he’s going to do whatever it takes to get the younger Shimada back.”

Jack’s head swam before he clung to Reaper. “What do we do?” he whispered. “There must be something we can do. We can’t let those…those…monsters harm Hanzo’s brother!”

“We need time to plan, but I don’t know how much time we have,” Reaper growled before he glanced at the laptop on Jack’s desk. “Are you…are you trying to find me in the database?”

“Don’t judge me,” Jack huffed. “You know damn near everything about me and I know next to nothing about you. A little unfair, don’t you think?”

Reaper smirked and chucked a finger under Jack’s jaw. “And how’s the searching coming along, _cariño_?” he teased.

“Terrible,” Jack huffed before he exited out of the browser. “Did you wipe the information on yourself?”

“Nope; would have been too suspicious,” Reaper chuckled as he set his hands on the desk. “Nah, I’m in there. Good luck finding me though. Petras made damn sure no one could.”

“Petras knows who you are?” Jack asked.

“I’m sure he has his suspicions,” Reaper shrugged. “Either way, if he doesn’t want me found, I’m more than welcome to play along.”

Jack sighed and laced his fingers with Reaper’s. “Will you ever tell me your name?” he murmured.

Reaper drew him in close and kissed him again. “One day,” he promised. “One day there won’t be a single secret between us. Until then, I want you to trust me that my withholding of information is for your safety. Now more than ever.”

Jack let out a snort as he reached up to caress Reaper’s cheek. He was getting rather sick of this “for your safety” bullshit. He survived a war; he could look after himself. Even if Reaper was probably the scariest bad boy in all of Overwatch with a finger on every single pulse, Jack wasn’t scared of someone coming after him. He was getting up there in age, but he was still strong enough to beat most people into submission.

Reaper’s claws passed slowly through his hair before he motioned for Jack to take a seat. “We need to get a plan in place. Then we can save Genji without getting anyone killed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we get into the real meat of the situation. Poor Genji; I do love you, honey, I swear, but you were the most vulnerable of all of them.


	7. Chapter 7

“That’s our guy?” Jack asked as he pretended to light up his cigarette.

They were standing under the eaves of a closed-down bakery. Hanzo couldn’t remember the place ever being open and he figured that the whole building was a cover for something. Hard to say what it was, but mostly likely something illegal that the rest of the force avoided investigating.

He’d never been fond of the district they were in. It was a nasty reminder of all the corruption that existed in Overwatch and how impossible it was to get anything done. Everything was run-down and filthy, covered in layers upon layers of grime and dirt. The only good part about this district was that it was a good place to pick up suspects without anyone interfering.

“That’s him,” Hanzo nodded his head quickly. “Reaper wants this done fast.”

“Done,” Jack snorted as he puffed the e-cigarette and waggled it between his teeth. “You distract him and I’ll subdue him.”

“Deal,” Hanzo nodded before he stubbed his own cigarette out and headed across the street.

Hanzo had no clue how Jack planned on subduing the muscle-bound meathead that Reaper decided was their best bet at getting information. Hanzo prided himself in his martial prowess, but he highly doubted if he would be able to bring the informant to their knees. It was disconcerting, but he didn’t have time to doubt them. Every day wasted was another day that Genji was left in the hands of Talon. He wanted his brother back as fast as possible.

“What you want, pretty boy?” the meathead snarled.

“I wanted to see what you were doing,” Hanzo replied. “You looked stupid from afar, but you seem to look worse up close.”

The man snarled and took a step forward. Dumb and conceited; lovely combinations to have in this part of town. Wonder how many times the dumbass got taken in for questioning? Jack appeared out of nowhere and grabbed the man by the arm. The man twisted around and Jack drove his elbow into the man’s sternum. The man wheezed, eyes opening in shock as Jack expertly knocked him onto his back. Hanzo lifted his eyebrows in surprise.

“You move fast,” he said.

“They don’t just teach you how to shoot in the army,” Jack chuckled as he bound the man’s hands behind his back. “Come on; we’re late enough as it is.”

Jack and Hanzo hauled the man down into a dark alley and threw him against the wall. They took turns standing guard, eyeing the rooftops for Gunslinger and Reaper. The vigilantes would know that they completed their end of the mission; they just had to show up. They got the nice easy part of the mission; it wasn’t their hide on the line.

Hanzo jumped as Jack was grabbed and pressed against the wall. He stared fearlessly into Reaper’s eyeslots, lifting an eyebrow as the taller man loomed over him. Hanzo stared as Reaper shifted his mask aside slightly and kissed Jack hungrily. Jack groaned and reached up to push his hand under Reaper’s hood and pull him closer.

“And you had the nerve to lecture me,” Jesse snorted angrily as he landed beside Hanzo. “Last time I checked, I never pinned Hanzo to a wall and tongue fucked him.”

Reaper let out a low growl before he pulled away from Jack, putting his mask back in place. “Watch your mouth, pup,” he warned.

Jack wiped at his lips with a thumb before he shrugged a shoulder. “So what now, genius?” he asked. “We got you the meathead.”

Reaper grabbed the man by the hair and slammed him against the wall. Jack and Hanzo shouted in alarm, but Jesse signaled for them to be silent. Reaper started snarling in Spanish and gave the man a rough shake. They spat out a mouthful of blood at Reaper’s feet and got their head slammed back against the wall.

“Reaper, they can’t give us information if you bash their skull in!” Jack shouted as he stepped forward.

“Don’t interfere,” Reaper growled.

“Don’t even start with me,” Jack growled back before he gently pried Reaper’s talons off of the man’s head. “You killing our only lead won’t help anyone.”

“Only lead?” the man laughed as he spat out another mouthful of blood. “Ain’t you just pathetic? Boss waiting up high and yer too dumb to know where that is.”

“Up high?” Jack asked.

Reaper let out a low chuckle before he pulled out a shotgun and tapped it against his hip. “I know just where our friends are hiding.”

“Jack, move!” Hanzo shouted as he moved forward.

Reaper blasted the man’s head point blank with his shotgun. Bits of bone, blood, and brain splattered against the wall. Jack shouted in alarm, stumbling back as he was caught in the spray. He stared down at himself in disbelief before he started laughing nervously.

“Holy fuck, Reaper; that wasn’t necessary,” he giggled out. “Holy shit. Holy shit.”

“ _Jefe_ , that was really uncalled for,” Jesse groaned. “You know my gun kills a lot cleaner. Now we look like something out of a horror movie and it ain’t even Halloween.”

Hanzo took a deep breath and forced his eyes away from the dead man. “So, where are we heading?”

“Oxton Aviations,” Reaper said as he holstered his shotgun and gentle wiped blood off of Jack’s face. “I’ll get some blueprints and schematics together and we’ll go over them. Meet at Jack’s in two hours.”

“Why Jack’s?” Hanzo growled.

“Because that’s where I’ll be,” Reaper shrugged a shoulder.

Hanzo rolled his eyes before he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and stalked off. Jesse kept pace with him, sighing a little.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured. “Reaper…is really stressed out.”

“We all are,” Hanzo sighed as he rubbed his eyes. “I’m not holding it against him. I just…I just want my brother back, Jesse.”

“I know,” Jesse hugged him tightly before they climbed into Hanzo’s car.

* * *

 

Jack gasped as Reaper thrust roughly up into him. He tried to regain his balance on the seat, biting his lip to keep from moaning too loudly. The fact that they had barely made it back to his car before Reaper had started ravishing him told him how badly Reaper was turned on by killing that man. It was so tempting just to bury his face in the soft leather, but he knew Reaper would never allow that.

“Let me hear you whimper,” Reaper growled as his claws squeezed Jack’s hips. “I want to know just how much pleasure I’m giving you.”

“You’re fucking me in the backseat of my car,” Jack snapped. “I think that’s more than enough for you right now.”

Reaper chuckled before he fisted Jack’s cock and started pumping. “Oh, _mi sol_ , you are always so vicious when I’m inside of you. Is this the true Jack Morrison? Not the pretty little golden boy but a horny, angry man that just wants to be drilled full of seed?”

Jack moaned before he could stop himself and leaned forward. His cock throbbed, begging for more attention as Reaper followed him forward. He felt teeth against his neck before he was pinned down to the backseat. His hips were lifted up and Reaper thrust hard into him.

“My little golden boy is looking quiet silver,” Reaper moaned into his ear, his hips snapping furiously against Jack’s rump. “Mmm, what will everyone think when they find out you happily lift your skirts for The Reaper? Will they be envious that I get to claim your plump ass every chance I get? Will they want you begging and screaming for them when they realize just how beautiful you are in the throes of passion? Mmm, or will they just want to watch you get fucked into every surface available while screaming for more?”

Jack let out a moan and clawed at the leather seat beneath him. He rocked his hips back, pulling Reaper deeper into him. That massive length stretched him wide and rubbed against every sweet spot that Jack had. Add in Reaper’s deep voice and that velvety croon and Jack was surprised he hadn’t cum twice already.

“Close,” Jack managed to whimper as Reaper kept thrusting.

Teeth grazed over his ear. “Scream for me, _cariño_. Let anyone in hearing distance know that you are mine.”

Reaper pushed in deep and Jack screamed as he climaxed. He tightened around the length inside of him, milking it as Reaper buried his face in Jack’s neck. He kept thrusting, slapping his hips possessively against Jack’s rump until Jack was a boneless mess under him.

“How was that, _mi sol_?” Reaper purred.

“I still have to drive home,” Jack whined as he reached down to feel where he and Reaper were connected.

He probed the flesh, whimpering as arousal spiked through him. Reaper was stretching him out so far and he wanted that thick cock buried deeper into him. His fingers kneaded the seat below him as he rolled himself back onto Reaper’s lap.

“Once more,” he whispered.

“ _Sí, mi luna. Sí,_ ” Reaper purred in his ear before he slowly started thrusting again.

***

“I am going to have to shampoo my car,” Jack whined as he pulled into the driveway of his house. “I can’t believe I leaked that much.”

“I can,” Reaper laughed as he pinched Jack’s cheek. “A cock that big in your ass isn’t going to let the muscles close up right away.”

“Shut up,” Jack huffed as he turned his car off and climbed out. “I need a shower.”

Reaper waited until they were inside to grab Jack’s hand and pull him close. His claws travelled lovingly down Jack’s cheek before he kissed him. Jack sighed into the kiss, opening his mouth as they gently started moving together.

“I have grown very fond of you, Jack,” Reaper murmured. “It is not often that I get attached. The last one was Gunslinger and he is like a son to me. But you?” His warm lips pressed against Jack’s. “I could get used to waking up to those beautiful eyes every day.”

Jack shook his head in amusement. “Flattering me, Reaper?”

“Maybe,” Reaper kissed him again. “But I still want you close. I can’t lose you.”

“Should retire then,” Jack teased.

Reaper shook his head in amusement. “We’ll see.”

Jack went to go take his shower while Reaper went to get blueprints and schematics. By the time Hanzo and Gunslinger showed up, they already had a basic plan of attack figured out. Hanzo didn’t like any of it, but there wasn’t much else they could do.

“So we’re going to give them Je—Gunslinger,” Hanzo winced and Reaper glared at Gunslinger.

“Really, kid?” he growled.

“Hey, you do you and I’ll do me,” Gunslinger shrugged as he pulled his scarf down. “So, how’re we makin’ sure I can get out of those cuffs?”

“They’re trick cuffs; you put a bit of pressure on the latch and they snap open,” Jack said. At Gunslinger’s pointed look, he frowned. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Dude, I don’t want to know where those things have been,” Gunslinger grimaced.

“On my wrists, that’s it,” Jack rolled his eyes. “I’ve used them once just to see Reaper piss himself.”

“And I didn’t,” Reaper snorted. “I thought it was hilarious.”

“Yah, after I scrapped you off the ceiling,” Jack smirked before he pointed to a hidden alcove in the underground parking garage of Oxton Aviations. “Reaper and I will be sitting up here. We’ll provide coverfire while you get Genji out of there. Gunslinger, you’re in charge of yourself. You gotta cut a swath through them to get free, you do it.”

“Little ruthless there, _oro_ ,” Gunslinger lifted an eyebrow.

“These punks are Talon; they don’t get the nice Morrison,” Jack growled. “The fewer of them in the world, the safer everyone will be.”

Hanzo shook his head and carded his fingers through his hair. “This is difficult; there are so many things that could go wrong,” he said.

“We don’t have time to think of a better plan of attack,” Reaper sighed. “We have until tomorrow to give Talon what they want or they will kill your brother. I’m not going to let a kid get slaughtered over something like this.”

“Thank you, Reaper,” Hanzo bowed his head. “I cannot express my gratitude.”

“You don’t need to,” Reaper snorted. “Let’s go over everything one more time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reaper has no goddamn chill. At all. But, at least we're one step closer to saving Genji! Yay!


	8. Chapter 8

“Everyone in position?” Hanzo asked.

“Eyes on the targets,” Jack confirmed. “Genji looks like shit, but he’s still alive.”

“Good luck,” Reaper growled. “We’ll be here when you need us.”

Hanzo glanced at Jesse and touched his hand. Jesse smiled and gave him a quick kiss before he placed his hands behind his back. Hanzo snapped the trick-cuffs over his wrists and put his hand between Jesse’s shoulder blades.

“Operation underway,” Hanzo said.

“Standing by,” Jack replied. “Initiating radio silence.”

Hanzo heard the line go dead and took a deep breath. He gave Jesse a shove forward and headed down the hallway to the parking garage. Jesse walked ahead of him, pretending to struggle as they headed for the drop off. The parking garage was full of cars and would provide plenty of cover if a firefight broke out. It was definitely going to happen. Hanzo had no doubts about it.

Talon wouldn’t want to let him get away with Genji. They wouldn’t want anyone to know about the exchange. They’d kill him and Genji in a heartbeat if they were able to. He knew that Jack and Reaper wouldn’t let that happen.

Hanzo did his best to keep his expression neutral as he pushed Jesse ahead of him. Genji looked terrible; his eyes were blackened, blood was dried and flaking off from his nose and lip, and he looked like he was having a hard time remaining upright. Jesse growled beside him, but didn’t move as the Talon operative stepped forward.

“It is good to see you, Hanzo Shimada,” he said, the white mask he wore keeping his face hidden. Hanzo could still hear the smirk in the man’s voice. “It would have been unfortunate if we had to kill your brother.”

“You wanted The Gunslinger,” Hanzo growled and shoved Jesse forward. “Here he is. Now give me my brother and we’ll put this whole business behind us.”

The operative let out a sharp order and Genji was dragged over to Hanzo. He caught his brother as they let him go and grabbed Jesse instead. Jesse fought the hands as he was dragged forward, his eyes darting all over the parking garage. Probably already mapping out a number of different escape routes to help him get to Jack and Reaper faster.

“That concludes our deal,” the operative said before he lifted a gun. “Thank you for your help, Hanzo; it has been most useful.”

The man’s head exploded before he had a chance to fire. Hanzo winced and held Genji close, backing away quickly as Jesse threw the cuffs off and started throwing punches at the men holding him. The sharp crack of shotguns and a heavy pulse rifle filled the air as Jack and Reaper opened fire.

“Get Genji out of here,” Jack ordered as the line flared to life. “We’ll handle these guys.”

Hanzo hauled Genji up against his chest before they started heading back up the hallway. The proximity sensors that Hanzo had set up around the perimeter started going crazy and he swore. There was back-up waiting in the wings and they hadn’t realized it until now. Really observant of them.

“We have more people moving in,” he said over the comms.

“It’s Petras,” Reaper snarled. “I was wondering when that coward would show up. Hanzo, take an alternative route out of here. He isn’t here to help you get your brother to safety. He’s here to protect his assets with Talon.”

“You sure of that?” Hanzo asked as he looped Genji’s arm around his shoulders.

“Positive,” Reaper said. “Get going.”

“Han…I’m sorry,” Genji murmured as Hanzo dragged Genji across the parking garage and up to the elevator.

His car was parked a safe distance from the building. They only had a quick jog to get Genji to safety and cleaned up.

“Save your strength, Genji,” Hanzo soothed as he closed the doors behind them and hugged his brother close.

“They’re going to kill everyone,” Genji whimpered. “You, me, Gunslinger, Jack, Reaper. They won’t stop until we’re all dead.”

“They won’t get that far,” Hanzo said. “Nothing can stop the Reaper.”

Genji let out a soft sob and Hanzo held him as they sank to the ground.

* * *

 

“Where’s your gun?” Jack demanded as he opened fired on Petras and his goons.

His boss hadn’t even stopped to ask what was going on. He’d taken one look at Reaper and started shooting. Good to know where the man’s priorities were. Definitely not with keeping the innocent lives safe; fucking bastard.

“Can I get to cover first?” Gunslinger demanded as he hopped behind a car. “Not all of us have military grade guns, Jack! I have six bullets to deal with these fuckers!”

Jack snorted as he ducked down to reload his pulse rifle. Reaper was below him chasing after the straggling Talon agents. He didn’t need to see him to know that his lover was having the time of his life. He shook his head and lifted himself back up to start firing again. Oh, how he wished he could share that sort of carnal ferocity.

“This doesn’t have to be this way, Captain,” Petra growled down the commline. “The vigilantes have been playing you. Put your gun down and we’ll talk about this.”

“That before or after you pump me full of lead?” Jack demanded as he shifted his gun to start shooting at another goon that had just emerged from behind a car.

“After if you keep this attitude,” Petras snapped. “Don’t you see the benefit of working with groups like Talon? They do their business as they please and we don’t have to worry about the general population’s welfare.”

“Talon is a terrorist group; they will turn on you the first chance they get,” Jack snarled.

“Not if I am useful,” Petra laughed hollowly. “And I am very useful.”

“Keep your shady shit to yourself; I have no interest in it,” Jack snapped.

“I don’t want to paint you as the bad guy, Jack,” Petras sighed as a loud beeping filled the garage. “But you leave me with no other options.”

“Jack, move!” Reaper shouted.

Jack vaulted over the railing and dropped down onto the roof of a car. It did little to soften his fall and his knees screamed in protest as he rolled off of the car to the ground. He bolted for safety as the stairwell he had been standing on gave way. The explosive charges reduced it to a pile of rubble in the time it took Jack to get to a safe position.

“Well done; you just cost the business several thousand dollars’ worth of property damage,” Jack snorted. “I’m sure Mr. Oxton is going to be very pleased.”

“Now might not be the time to mock the guy that almost blew your ass away,” Gunslinger pointed out.

“I was almost blown up,” Jack smirked behind his facemask. “I’m allowed to mock whoever the hell I want. Three coming in on your left.”

“Thank you,” Gunslinger laughed before the bullets started flying again.

Jack broke in and out of cover, shooting at Petras’ goons as he moved. He didn’t know where Reaper and Petras were throughout the chaos, but he suspected that they were fighting each other. Reaper was probably incredibly horny right now from all the fighting. He really should have been focusing on the fight, but he was distracted by the thought of Reaper pinning him to a car and humping his ass roughly until he begged for his cock.

“Watch your six!” Gunslinger shouted.

Jack ducked behind a bumper and grit his teeth. Focus, old man; now is not the time to be thinking about sex. He twisted and fired off three rockets, rolling out of the way of the bullets flying around him. He glanced around and spotted Reaper backing away into an alcove, firing on the men advancing on him.

“Hold the line,” Jack ordered as he bolted forward.

“Don’t you go playing cowboy on me!” Gunslinger laughed as he continued firing on Petras’ goons.

Jack laughed as he hurried towards Reaper. He fired on the goons, injuring two of them so that Reaper could move forward and finish the other two off. Reaper nodded his head before tapping a shotgun against his mask.

“Petras took off; if we hurry, we can catch the bastard,” Reaper growled.

“Lead the way,” Jack nodded. “I have a bone to pick with the bastard.”

Reaper moved his mask and grinned at Jack. Jack rolled his eyes playfully before he lifted his mask up. They shared a brief kiss before they hurried onwards. Of course Reaper would want to kiss him after everything that happened. Jack was surprised they weren’t already fucking against the wall. He certainly wouldn’t have turned down the opportunity to get his rocks off if Reaper was as hard as he guessed he was.

Petras had managed to corner himself between two high concrete walls in a subsection of the parking garage. He was spitting and cursing, glaring up at the tops of the walls as if they had personally offended him. Jack lifted his rifle up to his shoulder and stared down the sights. One move and he was filling the man full of lead.

“That’s far enough, Petras,” he said. “Put your hands where I can see them.”

“Are you playing cop now, Captain?” Petras demanded as he turned around. “A little late for that, isn’t it?”

“I could say the same for you,” Jack replied. “What were you thinking taking bribes from Talon?”

Petras let out a low laugh. “You think you’re better than me, Morrison? You don’t know anything about what I’ve done to keep this city safe,” he said. “There’s more to every story than just whichever pretty pictures flash the brightest.”

“I know what you’ve done,” Reaper growled. “You gambled and bribed your way to the top. You didn’t care who got trampled under you. How pissed were you when your partner got the promotion you wanted, Petras? How much did it make you foam to know that your partner, a relative nobody compared to your heroics, got to call himself ‘Chief’ while you were forgotten about?”

“Don’t try to act clever with me,” Petras sneered. “You really think you know anything, Reaper?”

“I know more about you than you realize, Petras,” Reaper growled. “I want you to pay for what you’ve done, but I know that won’t happen if we go through the regular channels. How many pockets have you lined in your career, charlatan, to ensure that the courts are always in your favour?”

Petras’ jaw worked back and forth as he stared Reaper down. “You think you know so much, don’t you?” he growled. “You know nothing. Absolutely nothing. Everything I’ve done is for the good of Overwatch.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Giovanni,” Reaper laughed. “You haven’t ever been able to pull anything on me. The good of Overwatch? What a crock of shit. The only thing you care about is your own worthless hide.”

Petras stiffened before he slowly pulled a handgun from his belt. “You will show me your face, Reaper,” he hissed. “Or I will take everything from you.”

“With that little thing?” Reaper sneered. “Try me.”

Petras smiled before he pointed the gun at Jack and fired. Jack’s eyes widened in horror and he screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Gets the Jar of Tears ready* Y'all ready for this? >3


	9. Chapter 9

Reaper crumpled to the ground holding his stomach. The gun had more power behind it than it appeared; it had punched through Reaper’s thick Kevlar. Jack sank to his knees beside Reaper, pressing his hand over the wound as blood continued oozing out.

“Well, you move faster than I anticipated,” Petra clucked his tongue. “Still, you can watch your favourite pillow-boy die before you do. You can’t stop death, Reaper.”

“Jack,” Reaper managed to grit out.

“All over it,” Jack replied.

He whipped his sidearm up and fired three times. Petras crumpled to the ground with a ruin of a face. Rather anticlimactic, but Jack really didn’t care about that; Petras didn’t deserve to be turned into a martyr for a cause of any sort. He just wanted to look after Reaper until they could get him to a hospital or something. Jack inhaled deeply to calm his nerves before he turned back to Reaper.

“Hey, don’t you dare die on me,” Jack growled as he helped Reaper lie down. “Just let me….”

Reaper gently took Jack’s hand and lifted it to his mask. Jack’s fingers caught on the latches and he fumbled with them for a moment before he pulled the mask off. He felt his breathing hitch as he stared into Reaper’s beautiful brown eyes. They crinkled into a smile, showing just how much older Reaper was than him.

He had to be in his fifties, his black hair shot through with silver. His bronze skin was worn and wrinkled around his eyes. Worry lines were carved deep into his forehead and made all the more prominent with every pained twitch Reaper made. Scars crisscrossed his face, each one telling a story that Jack wanted desperately to know. He was beautiful and Jack’s heart screamed in denial.

“Bullet tore into my stomach, Jack,” Reaper coughed out. “I ain’t comin’ back from that.”

“No, no you promised me,” Jack whispered as he pushed down harder on the bleeding wound. “You promised!”

“Ssh, _mi luna_ ,” Reaper soothed as he ran his knuckles down Jack’s face. “It’s okay. I had a good run. Would have loved to settle down but…well….”

“No,” Jack snarled before he yanked out his cellphone. “No, I’m not losing you!”

He couldn’t. Not now. Not after everything they’d been through. He was not losing him!

“Jack,” Reaper grimaced.

Reaper gently took his hand and pulled the cellphone away. Jack didn’t have the strength to fight him; his arms suddenly felt like lead. Reaper shook his head and rested his cheek on the ground, watching Jack the whole time. His breathing was growing ragged and Jack felt tears springing to his eyes as he leaned forward over Reaper’s head.

“No, no you promised me,” he whispered. “You promised! Don’t leave me. Please, please don’t leave me. Reaper, don’t leave me. I’m begging you.”

“I love you,” Reaper whispered softly. “Don’t stop living, Jack. You’re a good man. The very best, in fact. You deserve…happiness.”

Jack let out a sob and hugged Reaper close. He heard Gunslinger come running up behind him and swore loudly. He wasn’t wrenched off of Reaper, but Gunslinger didn’t stop swearing and kicking everything he could find. Reaper let out a wet cough against Jack’s cheek before he reached up and weakly removed Jack’s mask.

“One more…kiss,” Reaper coughed as frothy pink fluid dribbled out of his mouth. “ _Por favour, mi luna._ ”

Jack kissed him, trying to put all of his feelings behind it. The love, the want, the desire; all of it, everything he could muster together in that single moment. He wanted Reaper to understand exactly how he felt about him. He hadn’t held back the entire time, but he wanted Reaper to know that he loved him. Reaper returned the kiss weakly, his lips moving too slowly. He let out a long sigh and rested his head against Jack’s thigh. Jack let out a sob as his tears pattered against Reaper’s cheek.

“Perfection,” Reaper coughed. “ _Gracias, mi luna_.”

Jack watched Reaper’s chest rise and fall once more before he stopped moving. Jack covered his mouth and sobbed as Reaper’s eyes stared ahead of him without blinking. Two minutes ticked by with no movement from his lover.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” Gunslinger murmured as he knelt down beside Jack. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“You knew him longer,” Jack whispered as he lifted Reaper’s hand and kissed over the still-warm palm. “I should be comforting you.”

“I’m a vigilante,” Gunslinger murmured. “I accepted that I was gunna lose him violently years ago. Never thought it’d be Petras though. That’s going to be a shitshow to work around. Whole city’s gunna be in an uproar.”

Gunslinger reached past him and rooted around in Reaper’s front pocket before he pulled a datachip out. He turned it slowly in his hand and nodded.

“Reaper said that if anything happened to him, I should give you the chip in his front pocket of his chest,” he said, holding the chip out to him. “Contingency plans; Reaper’s got millions. Wish he had something to reverse a bullet wound. Fuck.”

Jack took the chip and put it in his pocket. He closed his eyes before he put Reaper’s mask back on. No one else was worthy of seeing Reaper’s true face. He helped Gunslinger carry the body to Gunslinger’s car and safely tuck it into the backseat. Jack watched Gunslinger drive away and hugged himself tightly.

Reaper was gone. All he had left was a memory and a little datachip. The man that had wound his way into his heart was gone and he was never going to see him again.

Jack slowly sank to his knees, the chaos of the parking garage forgotten. He let out a broken scream of denial before he dropped his head into his hands and sobbed. Reaper was gone. He was gone and he was never coming back. Jack had never felt more alone or more heart-broken in his life. There was nothing to fill the yawning chasm in his heart that had taken the form of the love of his life.

He clutched the space above his heart and screamed up at the mockingly clear blue sky. He wanted Reaper back. He wanted him back, damn it! Why was he taken from him? WHY?!

***

Jack pushed the datachip into his laptop and waited for it to load. He felt sick. He felt empty. He felt like the world was shattering around him and there wasn’t a stable place for him to stand. He was a broken shell of a man and there wasn’t a single soul in the world that could help him be put back together.

He clicked on the icon that appeared in the middle of his screen as his laptop stopped scanning the datachip and blinked at the video that started playing. Reaper was staring at the camera, tapping his claws on the desk in front of him. Jack heard him sigh before he shook his head.

“Hey, Jack,” he murmured. “I don’t like leaving loose ends and I always plan for the worst. If you’re watching this, that means that the worst possible thing happened and…well, I guess I’m dead. You didn’t deserve that, _mi luna_ , and I’m sorry. I’m going to explain everything I can and try to be patient with me. I’m not used to trusting others. First,” Reaper reached up and removed his mask, “my name is Gabriel Reyes.”

Jack heard himself gasp and covered his mouth in shock. He knew that name. Gabriel Reyes was the Chief of Police before Petras and had died in the hospital almost twenty years ago. How was this possible? The man had been burned horribly; he shouldn’t have survived something like that.

Reaper pushed his hood back and thick salt-and-pepper curls tumbled over his forehead. He ran his claws through them before shaking his head. He looked so calm, so unafraid. Did he really think he was going to die? Had he known? Or had Jack being with him fucked everything over? Had he gotten the vigilante, his lover, his soul, killed because he’d been Reaper; no Gabriel’s; weakness?

“Records say that I died from an explosion,” Gabriel said. “Smoke inhalation and severe burning to the lining of my lungs. Truth is, Petras had a patsy already lined up to take my place in the event I wasn’t dead at the scene. They buried that man in my stead, burned his body down to ash so that no one could ever notice the difference. I survived the explosion that was supposed to kill me and I escaped before Petras could come finish the job. I don’t know all the reasons why that bastard wanted me dead, but I know the main one. He was infuriated that I, his partner, was given the position of Chief of Police over him.

“Petras was the hero of Overwatch for as long as anyone could remember. There wasn’t a case he couldn’t crack or a kitty he wouldn’t save from a tree. The city loved him. But his superiors and everyone that worked with him knew the truth. Giovanni Petras was a back-stabbing, conniving little shitstain that should have had his badge taken away years ago. Unfortunately, if anyone had tried that, the good citizens of Overwatch would have rioted. So, when the Chief of Police announced his retirement, everyone assumed that their favourite hero was going to be promoted. Shocked them all when his nobody partner that avoided the press as much as Petras basked in it was promoted instead.

“I don’t know how long he wanted me dead. Maybe that first little while he was in shock or suspected that I would quit. I hated dealing with the press and the public over the shit I had to deal with, but I learned to put on a brave face and deal with everything as it came. When it was clear that I wasn’t going to step down, Petras moved to eliminate me. I received a call about a terrorist group hiding out in some old warehouse and went to see if there was any truth. There were ten officers with me when that building went sky high. None of them made it out except for me.

“I was barely alive. I shouldn’t have survived, but I was always a stubborn man. I know it’s hard to tell, but I was covered in third-degree burns. I’ve had so much work done to my body, Jack, sometimes I worry if it is even me anymore. But, as I was crawling away from the blaze, I knew one thing. Petras had set me up. Petras had wanted me dead. I wouldn’t rest until that bastard had paid for what he’d done to me and those other innocent officers that had died. I don’t remember what happened. Somehow, I was found by a vigilante and nursed back to health.

“I knew I couldn’t go back to my old life. Petras had made sure of that. So I took to being a vigilante, left no trace of Gabriel Reyes behind, and became Reaper instead. I did what no other vigilante had the guts to do; I took the city by force. Everyone was in my pocket in a few years. There wasn’t an organization in the city that I couldn’t force my way into. None of them were safe and they knew it. I wasn’t giving them protection, I wasn’t running their show; I was the hellhound at their heels waiting for a chance to grab them and drag them back to Hell. I was a fucking god to them, Jack, and they feared me. Maybe that’s why I stayed this long.”

Reaper looked at his claws for a long moment before he sighed. “Ah, _mi luna_ , where do I even begin to explain where everything went wrong? I never meant to stay a vigilante this long. I wanted justice for what Petras did to me, but twenty years? No, no that’s too long. I should have retired a long time ago; pulled up stakes and headed back to L.A. Forgotten this city even existed. And yet, in spite of knowing that I should have done that, if I had, I wouldn’t have met you.”

Reaper smiled at the camera and let out a long sigh. “Yah, I know, how sappy can I get, right? But how could I not fall in love with you? Oh, _mi luna_ , you were beautiful that day, did you know that? The sunlight in your hair and that hard look in your eyes and that adorable little pout of yours; I wanted to wrap you in my arms and never let you go.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m in my fifties, Jack. What would you want with an old man like me? But you did want me. You wanted me and I…ah. You know what we did. It was special, Jack, even if you were only interested in relieving yourself at the time. I love you, _mi luna_ , and I always will. No matter what.”

Reaper shook his head and tapped his chest. “I’ve left all my possessions in your name. Jesse’ll get them to you. Um, that’s Gunslinger. Sorry. He’s not going to be impressed I told you,” he chuckled. “Jack, this is going to be hard for you, I know, but please don’t stop living. You’re a tough man, you’ll be okay. Just promise me that you’ll keep my memories close to your heart.”

“I will,” Jack murmured as he wiped at his eyes. “I will, you bastard.”

He leaned forward and started sobbing all over again. Reaper was gone. Gabriel Reyes was gone. The city was going to suffer without its black-clad hellhound pulling the strings to keep as many innocent people safe as possible. But maybe, Jack wondered as he looked at his facemask, maybe it was time for a new Reaper to take over. One with no ties to anyone in the city. One who wasn’t going to be missed when he went missing.

Maybe it was time to start a new tradition within the city.

* * *

 

Hanzo hugged Genji close to him. His brother’s face was swollen, but none of his bones were broken and in need of attention. He ran his fingers soothingly through Genji’s green hair, smiling as his brother turned to snuggle into him.

“Hanzo?” Genji whispered. “I’m sorry. I…I don’t think I should continue being a vigilante.”

“It only took being kidnapped for you to see sense,” Hanzo snorted gently.

“Sorry,” Genji murmured as he wrapped his arms around Hanzo’s chest. “I just…I wanted to make a difference. Genji Shimada couldn’t do anything, but Sparrow could.”

“I know, _otouto_ ,” Hanzo soothed and kissed Genji’s forehead. “I know. Just promise me you’ll watch your back more often.”

“I promise,” Genji smiled up at him. “I feel like shit. Can you carry me to my bed?”

“You can sleep on the couch,” Hanzo chuckled. “I’m not carrying your dead weight any further today.”

“You’re no fun,” Genji teased before he rolled over. “Hanzo…are you still going to be seeing Gunslinger?”

“I am,” Hanzo murmured.

“Do you think he’ll give up being a vigilante for you?”

“No,” Hanzo shook his head. “It is his livelihood. I doubt anyone could convince him to retire.”

Genji was silent for a while and Hanzo thought he’d fallen asleep. He carefully slipped out from under his brother, kissing his forehead with a fond smile. He really needed to use the bathroom and Genji had been putting a lot of pressure on his bladder. Genji shifted as he moved away, holding onto his wrist.

“Hanzo, I think he will retire for you,” he murmured. “I think he’ll like having you around more. Just a hunch.”

Hanzo smiled. “You rest, little brother. Leave the thinking to me.”

Genji smiled before he curled up on the couch, burrowing his face into the pillow. Hanzo left to relieve his bladder and returned to find Jesse humming as he cradled Genji’s head in his lap. Genji was fast asleep, his expression peaceful as Jesse ran his fingers through Genji’s hair.

“Retirement sounds nice,” Jesse smiled up at him. “Just me and you and your annoying kid brother with your adorable dogs. Be nice not to have to worry about someone gettin’ the drop on me.”

Hanzo sat down beside Jesse and pressed against his side. He didn’t say anything, but Jesse seemed to understand. They kissed, a sweet little kiss that said everything Hanzo was too choked up to say.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rolls the barrel of tears out because a jar just isn't going to cut it* Want to know the real kicker? I'd written a version where Reaper survived, but it felt so cheap and stupid that I went back to the original plan. No happy ending for you~ Or me~
> 
> And Petras' anticlimactic death is the perfect send off for his character; it's so plain and simple compared to the life he built around himself. He would have wanted to die in some glorious fashion, but nope; Jack just shot him in the face a few times and called it a day.


	10. Chapter 10

Gabriel’s funeral was held in a secluded area of the cemetery at night. Jack walked up alone, his hood pulled over his recognizable hair. There were a number of other vigilantes waiting there when he arrived, each one shifting nervously as they looked around. Jack knew the groundskeepers wouldn’t show up to interrupt, but it never hurt to be sure.

Jesse nodded to him before he stepped forward. “We all knew Reaper because of our work,” he said. “He, well, he was an asshole. He was crass and rude and was more than willin’ to tell you what he thought of ya. But, maybe that was the best part about him. He wasn’t scared. Not of anyone or anythin’. If he thought somethin’ had to be done, he’d do it and damn the consequences.”

He looked down at the coffin sitting beside the hole and sighed. “I knew I’d have to bury him one day. You know that in this line of work. We ain’t gunna die nice and peacefully in our sleep. I ain’t gunna try to put words in his mouth, but I think he would have retired after that last mission.” His eyes slid to Jack and everyone took their time looking at him.

Jack stared at his feet before someone nudged him forward. “Come on; we all know about you two,” someone murmured. “Say your good-byes. We’re all here for you.”

Jack set his hand on the polished wood and swallowed. “Good-bye, Reaper,” he murmured. “I only knew you a few months, but they were the best months of my life. Please, let yourself rest. We can carry on your legacy without trouble.”

One by one, the other vigilantes stepped forward and said similar good-byes. When the last word was said, they lowered Gabriel’s coffin into the hole and started filling it in. Jack choked on his tears as he shoveled, wiping at them angrily as similar sniffles filled the night air. No one said anything; they were all thinking the same thing.

Overwatch was not going to be the same without Reaper. The streets would not be as safe and the police would certainly start cracking down on vigilante activity. It would never be the same.

When the grave was filled in, Jesse set the grave marker in place. It was a simple design, one meant to mark a place but not tell you who was buried beneath. It was sad that this was where Chief Gabriel Reyes’ final resting place was. He deserved to have a proper headstone where anyone could come and pay him their respects. Petras had taken that from him.

“Good-bye, Gabriel,” Jack whispered as the other vigilantes drifted away. “I love you too.”

* * *

 

The thief slipped out of the house he had just cased and made for the fence. He was halfway over into the forested woodlot when claws dragged him back down. He gasped as he stared up at a bone-white mask and started shaking. Reaper tipped his head slowly to the side before tapping the item in the thief’s hand.

“I don’t believe that is yours,” Reaper growled. “Why don’t you be a good little boy and put that back where you found it? Before I have to do it for you.”

The thief shook harder as he nodded and darted for the house. He fumbled his way inside, setting off the alarms in his flight. He didn’t care; he would rather deal with the police than deal with the Reaper.

* * *

 

Reaper watched from the safety of a roof across from the house that had been cased. He smirked behind his mask, watching as the thief was dragged out to the awaiting cop car. Not bad for the first job of the night. He tapped his chest before turning and walking off into the night.

There was still work to be done and Chief Shimada would want to speak with him. He paused, pushed back his hood, and gave his golden hair a quick ruffle before pulling his hood back on. Damn hair was itchy as all hell in this weather. Well, at least he had plenty of years left to get used to it.

* * *

 

Hanzo smiled as Jack Morrison dropped out of the shadows. He was still shocked that his friend had taken up Reaper’s mantle, but he thought it was oddly fitting. Jack Morrison protected the streets during the day and Reaper patrolled them at night.

“How is the new program working out?” Jack asked as he leaned against the wall beside Hanzo.

“Very well; the vigilantes all seem quite happy to learn how the police do their job. I have a number of new recruits requesting permission to join up officially with the force,” Hanzo smiled. “A number of them want to be like Jack Morrison.”

Jack shook his head as he looked out on the streets of Overwatch. “At least there’ll be some semblance of order again,” he said. “Petras let the vigilantes take over with no regulations. You’ll put a stop to that.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, my friend,” Hanzo shook his head.

Jack clapped his shoulder before he straightened up. “I have a few more rounds to do. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, Reaper,” Hanzo shook his head.

Jack inclined his head before he vanished into the shadows. Hanzo let out a soft sigh as he looked up at the sky. The wind ruffled his hair a little bit and he felt a momentary pang of longing for the old days. He took a deep breath and headed for home, smiling a little to himself.

Jesse better have had supper ready to go or he was going to riot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end. A simple burial for Reaper, a rebirth of sorts, and a little hope for the future. It Jack doesn't work himself into the ground being a cop during the day and Reaper at night.
> 
> Thank you all so much for your support on this story. Hope you stick around for the rest of my work.


End file.
